


Out of Darkness

by wilddragonflying



Series: Roleplays [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blind!Dean, M/M, Wincest - Freeform, hurt!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-24
Updated: 2013-03-24
Packaged: 2017-12-06 09:17:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 41,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/734041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wilddragonflying/pseuds/wilddragonflying
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean never thought he'd get out of the hunting life. One hunt gone terribly wrong changes all that, and now Dean has to deal with feeling the world in a whole new way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out of Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> So I finally figured out how to work w/ both my Microsoft Word & this site, so I'm going through and revamping all of our earlier fics. Fingers crossed that they'll behave themselves!

The hunt had started like any other. Hear about the monster, figure out what they were dealing with, go after it, kill it. Everything went fine until right after Dean and Sam ganked the rogue angel. The angel had gone up in a bright flash of white light far too quickly. Dean hadn't looked away in time, and now he couldn't see anything, period.

The force from the angel's death had knocked Sam on his ass, so it took him a moment to get his bearings. He rolled up onto his knees with a groan and pushed his hair back off his face, squinting around the room for his brother, who had his back to him. "Dean? Are you okay, man?"

Dean didn't reply; he couldn't. His senses were all ringing, he couldn't tell up from down, let alone right from left. He slowly managed to roll to his side and curled in on himself. Everything hurt, but his eyes hurt worst of all. They were still in his head, but they felt like they were burning.

Sam was on his feet in an instant, hurrying across the space between him and his brother. He dropped to his knees beside Dean and gripped his shoulder. "Dean," he said again, urgency colouring his tone. "Dean, what's wrong?"

Slowly Dean became aware of Sam's voice, but it sounded like it was coming from far away. "Sammy?" he asked, his voice rough. "Where are you?" He couldn't open his eyes, afraid that if he did they would hurt even worse.

"I'm right here," Sam reassured, squeezing Dean's shoulder. "Open your eyes, man." Why wouldn't Dean look at him? His breathing was laboured, like he was in pain, but Sam couldn't help him if he didn't give him a clue.

"Can't," Dean whimpered. "Hurts." Everything hurt. Dammit, why hadn't he looked away? He could barely feel Sam's hand on his shoulder through the pain.

"Okay, hang on." A quick poke and prod revealed no physical injuries—at least, Dean wasn't bleeding and he didn't have any broken bones. Sam could feel panic rising in his chest. There was something majorly wrong with Dean, that much was obvious, but he still had no idea what. Unless, when they killed the angel..?

Deciding not to think about it just yet, Sam got his arm around Dean's shoulders and hauled him into a sitting position. "Think you can walk?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

Dean screwed his eyes shut even further when Sam hauled him up. "Yeah," he croaked. He limped and stumbled along beside Sam out to the parking lot of the abandoned warehouse they'd cornered the angel in. When they had arrived, it had just gotten dark, so it should still be dark now. Taking a deep breath, Dean slowly opened his eyes. Nothing. No starlight, no Impala, no Sammy. He blinked a few times, but it didn't help; all he could see was nothing. Blackness.

"Sammy, I think you're going to have to drive," Dean whispered.

Sam was too busy trying to fumble the passenger door open while keeping Dean upright to notice how his brother's eyes blinked without seeing. "Yeah, worked that one out for myself," he muttered as he helped Dean into the car. "You can barely walk; you're not driving me anywhere." A quick grope into his jacket pocket had the keys in Sam's hand and he made his way around to the driver's side.

Their motel was a little over half an hour away from the warehouse, so once he was situated behind the wheel Sam turned to Dean again. "Why don't you try to get some sleep? It might help you feel better," he suggested as he slid the key into the ignition and started the car.

"Don't think it'll help," Dean muttered to himself, but he did as Sam bid, and leaned against the passenger window cautiously. Something told him that this sight problem of his wouldn't be solved by sleeping.

Sure enough, when they arrived back at the motel, he woke up when Sam turned the Impala off. He still couldn't see anything, although he knew his eyes were open. He swallowed hard. "I'm gonna need your help getting back to the room, Sam."

Once again, this was something that Sam had been expecting to hear, so he simply pocketed the keys with a "Yeah, okay," and got out of the car. When he got round to the passenger side, he popped the door and held his hand out for Dean to take. "You still sore?" he asked, sympathetic. It was never fun, getting thrown around like a rag doll by an angel.

"You could say that," Dean said, turning his head to face Sam's voice. He slowly got out of the car, not realizing that Sam had a hand out. He stood uncertainly, his gaze focused just over Sam's left shoulder.

The fact that Dean ignored the offered help wasn't anything unusual, but the way he stared at a point just to the left of Sam's face definitely was. Finally, Sam noticed that something was wrong. His stomach dropped. "Dean... Can you see me?"

Dean couldn't stop the tears even if he wanted to. "No," he whispered. "Sammy... I can't see anything." He brought one hand up to his face, but couldn't touch his face; the contact burned.

The world kind of tilted on its axis for Sam just then and he swayed precariously on the spot for a moment. Dean couldn't see. Dean couldn't see and he was crying and Sam didn't know what the fuck to do to help him. "Okay," he managed to choke out, taking Dean's arm and squeezing in what he hoped was a reassuring way. "It's okay. Let's get inside and we'll try to work out what happened. We'll fix this, Dean, don't worry." As he guided his brother across the parking lot, Sam tried to convince himself that he believed his own words.

Dean could hear the doubt in Sam's voice, but he didn't say anything. He followed meekly along, stumbling occasionally. When they finally got into the motel room, he let Sam guide him over to one of the beds, and sank down on it, clutching the sheets as if they could give him back his sight. "How?" he asked Sam. "How the hell can we fix this? I don't think even Cas could just zap me back my vision, not when it's been burned out by angel Grace." He shook his head. "I'm lucky to even still have my eyes, even if they're useless."

As soon as Dean was sitting down, Sam busied himself with digging through his brother's duffel. "I don't know, Dean," he admitted, because he couldn't lie outright. "But maybe the fact that you've still got your eyes is a good thing. Maybe because they're still there, they can be fixed." At last he found what he was looking for. He broke the seal on the bottle of whiskey and took a long drink from it that he hoped Dean couldn't hear, and then crossed the room to press it into his hands. "I'll make some phone calls, ask around, see if anyone knows anything. Don't give up before we've even started."

Dean took an experimental sip of the drink, found it was whiskey, and then took a hearty swig. "Maybe," he said, but his voice didn't hold out much hope. "in the meantime, what are we going to do? I can't keep hunting, not without my sight. Hell, I can't even help you research."

Sam sighed and moved to sit beside Dean on the bed, a hand on his shoulder. "There are other hunters, Dean," he said softly, sadly. Of course Dean would be more concerned about the fact that he couldn't hunt than the fact that he couldn't see. "We can take a break. Head toward Bobby's, crash there for a while or find an apartment or something. And if we don't figure it out straight away, I'll get a job."

Dean nodded, taking another sip of whiskey. He couldn't turn to face Sam. Even though he couldn't see Sam's face, he could imagine the pained and concerned look that would be on his little brother's face. "Sure. I don't... I don't want to go to Bobby's, though. I don't want him to see me like..." His voice trailed off, the enormity of his situation—burned by an angel's Grace, there were bound to be marks all over his body, not just his eyes—starting to sink in fully.

Sam sighed. He wanted to touch Dean, to turn his face toward him so that he could look at him, but he didn't dare. Dean wasn't too fond of them getting up close and personal unless one of them had a gaping wound and he didn't sound like he would take kindly to being scrutinized right now. As it was, Sam bumped shoulders with Dean, trying to be encouraging and optimistic like Dean had been for him so many times over the years.

"We don't have to go to Bobby's straight away, but we're gonna have to tell him, Dean," he reasoned. "We'll need his help. Cas', too. In fact, Cas should probably be the first on our list." If anyone would know a quick-fire way to fix Dean's sight, it would be an angel. "Do you want to call for him?"

Dean took a deep breath. He knew Sam was right, but he hated the thought of Bobby and Cas knowing that he was stupid enough to look at an angel as it died... "Yeah, I'll call," he said, taking another gulp of liquid courage. Bowing his head, he prayed, "Cas, we've— _I've_ —gotten into a good bit of trouble. So I'd really appreciate it if you could get your feathery ass down here." A few seconds later, there was the flutter of wings, and Dean looked up in their direction, although he knew that he wouldn't be looking directly at Cas. "Hello, Cas."

"Dean. Sam."

Sam smiled at Cas from his position beside Dean, keeping close in the hope that he could provide some comfort. He could tell that Dean was distressed, that he felt weak. "Hey Cas."

Castiel wasn't even looking at Sam; he was staring at Dean. His brow was furrowed slightly as he tried to puzzle him out, possibly wondering why Dean wasn't looking right at him, but a little off to the side. Sam saw it the moment Cas worked it out, and while his expression remained mostly blank, his eyes widened. "You're blind," he said, his voice borderline accusatory, as if this was Dean's fault. "You killed one of my brothers, and watched him die. But how do you still have your eyes? They should have been burned from your skull."

Sam fought the urge to roll his own eyes. Way to sugar coat it for him, Cas, is exactly what he didn't say, but Cas shot him a look that said he knew what he was thinking. Whatever.

Dean shrugged. "I don't know," he said honestly, gazing sightlessly in the direction of Cas's voice. "I don't know, Cas. Maybe I managed to look away in time, or maybe Fate just really likes me, but whichever it was, I still have my eyes, but no sight. Do you know of anything that we could do to fix it, get it back?" He didn't feel hopeful Cas could do, or know of, anything that could fix this. An angel's Grace was pretty fucking powerful.

Sam tried to ignore the doubtful look on Cas' face, and shifted minutely closer to Dean instead. "I don't know," the angel was saying. "Normally, there is nothing to be done. What has been seen cannot be unseen, as it were." His lip quirked but Sam got the impression that he didn't find it very funny. Sam didn't either. "But since your eyes remain..."

Cas didn't finish his sentence, instead stepping forward with an outstretched hand to place two fingers on Dean's forehead. Even Sam felt the crackle of power as it surged down Cas' arm and into Dean. After a moment, Cas dropped his hand and stood back, and Sam held his breath. "Can you see?"

When Cas had laid his fingers on Dean's forehead, there had been a brief flash, he had seen a few blurry outlines and colors, but when Cas's fingers had been removed, everything faded to blackness. He shook his head, his voice bitter as he said, "No. For a moment there I almost could, but I can't now." He swallowed down the tears threatening to fall, leaning closer to Sam unconsciously.

Sam tried not to let his disappointment show, but Cas' was practically palpable. "Then there is nothing I can do for you," he muttered, shoulders slumping in defeat. "But I will look for someone else who can try." And with a fluttering sound, he was gone.

Squeezing Dean's shoulder once more, Sam let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. "Are you okay?" he hedged, and then kicked himself. What a stupid question.

Dean let out a weak chuckle that was more sob than laughter. "What do you think?" he asked, toneless. He didn't say anything else, just turned slightly and rested his forehead on Sam's shoulder, asking silently for comfort. He wasn't usually a physical person, but if he was going to survive the next few months until he was used to being blind, he would have to be.

Sam jerked in surprise, but it was a natural enough response to bring his hand to the back of Dean's neck, fingers playing with the short hairs they found there. "It's gonna be okay," he tried to reassure Dean, but his voice was thick with tears and uncertainty. "One way or another, we'll get through this."

"We always seem to," Dean murmured absently, his arms moving blindly to wrap around Sam, clinging to the one thing, the one person, that felt solid right now. "God, Sammy, I'm scared," Dean admitted, his voice barely loud enough to be heard. It killed him to admit it, but he needed Sam now more than he ever had before.

Sam shuddered, thrown completely off-balance by this vulnerable side of Dean that he was so rarely permitted to see, but he brought his arms around his brother and held him close anyway. "I know," he whispered back, seeing no point in making Dean feel even more alone in this just for the sake of saving face. "I am, too. But it's okay. We're allowed to be scared, we just can't let it beat us. I'm gonna do everything I can to help you. We're not giving up, okay?"

Dean smiled weakly. "We're Winchesters; we don't give up, no matter what." He allowed himself to just hold and be held by Sammy, his eyes closed, not that it made much difference. After a moment, he said, "We've got a lot to do, to prepare. First things first; I need some sunglasses. And I guess I'll need one of those funny little white canes. And we gotta figure out where the hell we're going to settle down."

The words 'settle down' made something funny flutter in Sam's chest, but he didn't dare examine it any closer than that. He wasn't getting a normal life out of this, didn't want to if his brother's sight was the cost. Refusing to dwell on it just yet, Sam focused on rubbing slow circles into Dean's back, although if Dean asked he wouldn't be able to explain himself. "We have sunglasses, and we can get you a cane. Maybe even a guide dog once we find somewhere?" he suggested carefully. "I still think we should look at getting a place near to Bobby's. You know he's not gonna judge you, Dean. Wouldn't you rather have him close?"

Dean shrugged, his back rounding into Sam's touch subtly. "Yeah, that makes sense, I guess," he said reluctantly. "But not too close. He'd claim otherwise, but he'd hover. Even sightless, that would be damned annoying." His lips curled at the thought of getting a guide dog, though. "A guide dog..." Dean mused, smiling. "Sounds like fun. So, I guess our next stop is finding a place in South Dakota."

"My next stop," Sam corrected, and then regretted it immediately. Dean wouldn't really be able to help with the initial search, what with being blind and all, so the responsibility to find them a place fell solely to Sam—but that didn't mean he had to make Dean feel bad about it. "You're stressed to hell, you should try to get some sleep," he tried to cover up his blunder by saying, slowly releasing his hold on his brother. "I'll start looking, okay?"

Dean bit his lip as he felt Sam release him. "Yeah," he said, nodding and avoiding looking in Sam's direction. He carefully stood up and shucked his clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor(he couldn't see where anything was, and he didn't want to risk knocking something over), standing only in his boxers, and cautiously feeling his way around the bed and up to the top, reaching out blindly and pulling the covers back and slowly sliding into the bed. He turned over on his stomach and forced himself to lay still. "Sammy?" he asked in a whisper, hugging the pillow with both arms. "When you're done... I don't want to be alone all night, please?"

Sam fought the urge to help Dean undress and find his way back to the bed. He knew he had to give Dean some level of independence or he would go nuts, but it was so hard to watch him struggle and not lend a hand. Sam didn't think he'd be able to keep that up for very long, especially not when he heard Dean's request as he crossed the room to find his laptop. "Sure," he agreed easily, a smile in his voice. "I'll be as quick as I can and then I'll come lay with you, okay?" Settling himself on the other bed, Sam began to tap away at the keys, demanding that his search yield promising results fast. He didn't want to leave his brother over there any more than his brother wanted to be left.

Dean nodded, pressing his face into the pillow. He forced himself to take slow, deep breaths, breathing evenly and letting himself slowly shift his focus from his lost sight to his other senses. He figured now was as good a time as any to start working on strengthening those other senses, especially his sense of hearing.

Sam searched for about an hour, and bookmarked a couple of places that looked promising. He would talk to Dean about them tomorrow. For now, Sam shut down his laptop and stripped down to his boxers, pulling on an old t-shirt as an afterthought. He then padded over to the other bed, where Dean seemed to be asleep. "Scoot over," he murmured, pulling back the covers and sliding in. It'd been a long time since they'd had to cram themselves into a single motel bed, but they both still fit, and it was kind of wonderful to have Dean so close.

Dean shifted over when Sam came over to his bed, and as soon as Sam was settled in, he rolled over and threw an arm over Sam's chest. "I just need to... I just need something to hold on to," he muttered, apologetic and slightly embarrassed. He shifted closer to Sam, closing his eyes. For the first time since he'd killed the angel and woken up without his sight, Dean started to feel like maybe, just maybe, things could possibly work out. He had his brother with him, after all; as long as he had Sam, he would be fine.

"It's okay," Sam mumbled back, resting a hand on the arm that Dean had flung over him. It felt nice, being held like this. Not that he'd ever admit it. "Goodnight, Dean." That night, lying in his brother's not-quite-embrace, Sam fell asleep faster than he had in years, and he didn't dream.

Dean drifted off to sleep slowly, his thumb idly stroking Sam's arm. He didn't have any nightmares, but he did dream. It was all a confusing flash of images, but he could remember Sam there, and he seemed to have had very few clothes on.

***

When Sam woke up, Dean was lying half on top of him and he was sweltering. It took an impressive series of maneuvers to get out of bed without disturbing him, and it was only when he was in the bathroom, splashing water on his face after brushing his teeth, that he realised he felt like he'd actually had a decent night's sleep. He wasn't prepared to analyse that too closely though, so he went for coffee by way of a distraction. He was halfway through writing Dean a note before he remembered that his brother was blind now, and it was with a sick feeling in his gut that he decided to rush.

Thankfully, Dean was still asleep when he returned. Sam placed one of the Styrofoam cups onto the rickety table in the middle of the room and sat down on the mattress beside Dean with the other one. "Rise and shine," Sam coaxed, wafting the coffee beneath his nose. "I come bearing caffeine."

When Dean woke up, he was confused. Why was everything still dark? He knew he'd opened his eyes. Then, his stomach gave a sickening lurch as he remembered. That's right; he couldn't see anything now. Sitting up carefully so as not to hit the cup of coffee he could smell so close to his face, Dean kept his eyes down as he held out a hand for the cup. "Thanks," he said softly.

After Sam had passed the coffee over, Dean sat cross-legged on the bed, sipping the liquid slowly. He was quiet, thinking, for a few moments, then he said, "So, did you find anywhere that looks promising?" Something was tickling in the back of his mind, something to do with Bobby, and he hoped the caffeine would draw it out.

"Um, yeah," Sam began, trying to ignore the way his stomach dropped when Dean had to hold his hand out for the coffee instead of just taking it. God, this was going to take some getting used to. Dean needed him now, and while Sam didn't mind, it would still be difficult to adjust. "A few places. There's one apartment that's real close to Bobby's, but it's the top half of a two story building and I wasn't sure about the stairs? There's another apartment about a half hour away, ground floor, looks decent, and there's a bungalow somewhere in the middle of the two. That one has a yard. Um, rent's pretty cheap on all of 'em, so it's just a case of picking which one we think's best. I liked the look of the bungalow myself. It's pretty isolated."

Dean took another sip of coffee, thinking for a moment. "Bungalow would be easier to protect, too. Also easier to buy, if we end up really setting up a home base." He was quiet for a moment, and then snapped his fingers as he finally remembered what had been at the back of his mind. "I think I remember Bobby saying he had some sort of amulet, acted like a proximity alert. Said he got it from some hunter, who said it could be spelled to alert you to nearby objects, monsters, or anything, really. Maybe that could help me, so I won't be constantly bumping into things?" he suggested, looking in Sam's direction hopefully. "Would also be a bit less for you to worry about whenever you had to go somewhere," he added.

Sam felt a little uncomfortable at the thought of Dean wearing an amulet that wasn't the Amulet, and for the first time he was actually glad that his brother couldn't see his face. When he realised that, he felt a little sick. "That's a good idea," he ageed, trying to project some enthusiasm into his voice. "Hopefully Bobby still has it. Do you want to call him?"

"You probably should," Dean said. Something in Sam's voice sounded off, but Dean couldn't put his finger on it. Finishing his coffee, he stood up uncertainly. "Um... can you help me get some clothes so I can get a shower?" he asked, blushing fiercely at having to ask for Sam's help in something so simple as getting clothes out of his bag.

Sam winced. How could he find anything to be grateful for in this situation when his brother had to be hating every minute of it? Dean likely found it humiliating, having to ask for help with the simplest of things, and Sam knew that he would feel the same if it was him—just like he knew that Dean would go out of his way to make him feel better.

"Sure," he said, getting up and crossing the room to search through Dean's duffel. Once he found what he needed, he guided Dean into the bathroom and turned the shower on before pressing the clothes into his hands. "Jeans on the bottom, shirt, and then underwear on top. I'll call Bobby while you're showering, okay? Unless you need..?" Sam let his voice trail off uncertainly. He wasn't sure if Dean would punch him for asking if he needed any help with the actual showering part.

Dean snorted, one hand on the shower door. "Get outta here," he said gruffly. "I'm not that much of an invalid." He hesitated, and then said, "You can leave the door open, if it'll make you feel better."

He waited until he'd heard Sam's footsteps leave before stepping out of his boxers and cautiously stepping over the raised edge of the shower, keeping one hand on the wall as he planted both feet. He moved slowly and carefully, not wanting to knock anything over as he showered.

It actually made Sam feel a lot better, so he didn't shut the door fully as he left the bathroom. He still spent a good five minutes sitting on the bed and listening for any sign that Dean was in trouble, but at last he picked up his cell.

Bobby yelled at him when he explained things, but Sam could tell that it was just because he was scared. They'd never had to deal with anything like this before, and everyone they knew who had seen an angel die had never seen anything again. But, Sam reminded him, no one had ever kept their eyes after such an experience, so there had to be some hope. Bobby knew exactly what amulet he was talking about when he brought it up, and once he'd gotten over the initial shock of discovering that one of his boys was blind, he demanded that they come to see him right the fuck now. Satisfied, Sam thanked Bobby and hung up. Once Dean got out of the shower, they'd be able to leave.

Dean swore as he knocked his elbow against the shower wall, but he managed to keep his balance and not knock anything over. He carefully soaped himself up and washed his body down, and then did his hair. He thought back to last night, and the dreams he had had. Dean could feel himself blushing, thinking about it. It wasn't very clear, but he thought that in the dream, he and Sam had had very few clothes—dare he say none?—on, and had been touching in ways brothers usually didn't touch each other.

He finished up his shower, turned the water off, and carefully stepped out, reaching for the towel he knew was hanging on the rack on the wall to his left. It took him a few tries, but he finally managed to snag it and dry himself off. Then he cautiously turned to where he had put his clothes and dressed. He buttoned up his shirt by feel, and then paused, suddenly feeling disoriented by the realization that he couldn't double-check his appearance in the mirror anymore.

Swallowing, Dean held out one hand and turned toward where he knew the door was. Taking a few steps forward, he felt his fingertips brush against it, and let his hand run to the edge and slowly pull it inward, then stepped through. "So what'd Bobby say?" he asked, frowning in concentration as he shuffled forward to the nearest bed and sitting down on it.

"He's worried about you," Sam said softly, watching in sympathy as Dean groped his way toward the bed. "And he says he's going to find a way to help you. But in the meantime, he has that amulet." He was quite impressed when his tongue barely tripped over the last word. "We just have to go get it. So, when you're ready to leave, we can hit the road."

Dean nodded, and then frowned down at his bare feet. "I'm ready when you are, except I need some socks and my boots." He laughed suddenly, but the laugh was a bit bitter. "God, I never thought I'd get out of the hunting life anyway except dying."

"You're sitting on your socks," Sam supplied helpfully as he got up to fetch Dean's boots. He froze mid-step when he heard his brother's next words, and his heart began to beat a little faster. Did Dean want out of the life? "You know... If we get settled at this bungalow, and we like it? Even if— _when_ you get your sight back, there's nothing to say we have to go back to hunting. We could just... stop."

"I am?" Dean felt under his legs, and then realized he was literally sitting on his socks. He stood up for a second, grabbed them, and then began pulling them on. He shrugged in response to Sam's question. "I never really thought about actually leaving. I mean, I grew up hunting. Hunting is all I know." He was quiet for a moment. "I don't know about staying out, when I get my sight back—" and God, he hoped he could be as optimistic as Sam about it—"but maybe a break is just what we needed." He finished getting his socks on, and then took the boots from Sam, managing to somehow get them on the right feet on the first try, then began lacing them up from muscle memory and feel.

Sam sat down beside Dean, ready to help if he struggled with the laces of his boots. "I guess," he answered, not bothering to point out that he, too, had grown up knowing nothing but hunting. "It's just something for us to think about, anyway. Whatever you decide, you know I'm not going anywhere." The smile was evident in Sam's tone, because he meant his words. They'd both tried to settle down before but it hadn't worked, and Sam had recently reached the conclusion that they just weren't meant to be apart. No matter what Dean chose, Sam would always follow him.

One side of Dean's lips quirked up in a half-smile. "Yeah," he agreed, tying the final knot and testing it. He made a triumphant sound, grinning madly. "At least I can still tie my own shoes," he chuckled, determined to not wallow in self-pity. "Now, off to Bobby's, then to check out the bungalow?"

"You're doing great," Sam confirmed, loving the smile on Dean's face. Apparently their dad's obsessive training had finally paid off in a way that wasn't to do with hunting or bar fights; even with his vision gone, Dean was still able to function pretty well. "Yeah, I'll give the landlord a call before we leave and set up a viewing."

Before long they were once again sitting side by side in the Impala. It felt wrong, driving Dean's baby without the burn of his intense gaze focused on him. Normally, whenever Sam got behind the wheel, Dean would just stare at him the whole time, making sure that he didn't do anything wrong. That was the main reason why Sam never bitched about wanting to drive more than was absolutely necessary, but now he had no choice and it just didn't sit right with him. In an attempt to fill the awkward silence, Sam popped the nearest tape into the player and the sound of AC/DC filled the car.

Dean smiled, knowing that Sam was trying to relieve the tension. "What, none of that boy band shit you like to listen to?" he asked, smirking, but reaching out and patting Sam's arm slightly awkwardly to let Sam know he was teasing. "So, tell me more about the bungalow; what did the ad say about it?" Dean requested, turning so he was facing towards Sam, even if he couldn't see him.

Sam drummed his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the music, almost without realising he was doing it. "Um, it sounds pretty spacious," he replied thoughtfully. "And kind of open plan, I guess? The living areas anyway; I think the living room opens out into the kitchen, which also serves as a dining room. Two bedrooms, one main bathroom and an en suite, and a moderately-sized garden at the back." He paused while they both sang along to the chorus of the current track and then continued. "I checked with the landlord as well, he doesn't mind pets, so if we need a guide dog that shouldn't be a problem."

"Sounds like it'll be just what I need," Dean commented, tapping out a beat on his knees. "And a guide dog... I kinda do want to get one. Not just for me," he added thoughtfully. "Lotsa hunters have said that dogs can sense monsters."

"You want to train a guide dog to help on hunts? Like a live EMF metre or something?" Sam's lip quirked up in amusement and he shook his head with a soft laugh. Trust Dean to come up with something like that. "I'm pretty sure that's not allowed. Or it's at least cruel. You might traumatise it."

Dean snorted. "Dogs are great assets to hunters," he said haughtily. "Actually... I'm kind of looking forward to this. I mean, the circumstances aren't the greatest, obviously. But I think we could make this work, me and you. I think we've got a better chance at making it out of the life, or at least getting a little bit out, together than when we tried it alone." He could feel a flush creeping up his chest and neck, and wondered what the hell had prompted him to say that. He meant every word, but that didn't mean he had to say 'em out loud.

Sam peered at Dean curiously. Was he hearing things, or had Dean really just said that? "Um, yeah," he agreed quietly, a matching flush making his cheeks burn. "I think that, too. We seem to manage most things when we're together, so why not this?" Sam had to snap his mouth shut before he said any more and opened himself up to ridicule.

Dean cleared his throat as the silence between them became uncomfortably long. "So," he said finally. "Where do we even go to look for a guide dog? I mean, you can't just get one from the pound, I know that much."

Sam actually hadn't thought of that. He shrugged, and then remembered that Dean couldn't see him. Crap. "I have no idea, but maybe Bobby will know. Speaking of..." Sam turned off the road and guided the car carefully—eyesight or no, Dean would still be able to feel the Impala hitting a pothole and he could still kick Sam's ass for it—over the gravelly surface of the junkyard before pulling up outside Bobby's house. "We're here."

Dean waited until he heard Sam cut the Impala off before opening his door and slowly getting to his feet, careful not to knock his head on the doorframe. "Good," he said. "Can't wait to get that amulet." He waited for Sam to come around to the side so that he could keep a hold of Sam's arm as they made their way to the door.

Sam tensed, and he knew that Dean would be able to feel it this time but he couldn't stop himself. He felt like a jerk, though; Dean needed this amulet while he couldn't see, and Sam was stupid for getting jealous. But knowing that and stopping it from hurting were two different things.

"Bobby said he knew where it was, so hopefully he's got it waiting for you," he mumbled, trying to keep his tone light. It was slow going, trying to steer Dean around the crap that was strewn across the yard, but at last they reached the door. Taking a deep breath, Sam knocked.

Dean felt Sam tense up, but he didn't comment on it, too busy trying not to trip over the gravel and other crap he knew would be all over Bobby's property. Even with Sam holding him up, Dean knew that if he went down, Sam was going with him in all likelihood.

Bobby had been watching their slow progress through his window, his heart breaking with each hesitant step that Dean took. He had the amulet, which was set in a ring, in his pocket. He waited until he heard Sam's knock before opening the door. "Hey, you two idjits," he greeted gruffly, but his voice was still warm. "C'mon in."

Sam grinned when Bobby opened the door, and carefully helped Dean over the threshold. "Hey Bobby, it's good to see you," he said sincerely, stepping forward to hug their adopted uncle and let Dean do the same. "Did you find that amulet?"

Bobby hugged them back, and then led them into the office, watching as Sam helped Dean to a chair. Dean had always been the more obviously strong of the two, and seeing him so weakened—even though Bobby would never call Dean that out loud—tore at Bobby's heart. "Right here," he said, pulling the ring out of his pocket. "It's gotta go on the left ring finger, the only way it'll work, the guy told me. I've already spelled it to alert you to proximity of objects." He held the ring out to Sam, obviously meaning for him to put it on Dean's finger.

Sam actually sagged with relief when Bobby pulled out the ring—and maybe Bobby gave him a weird look, or maybe Dean noticed, but he couldn't bring himself to care. The way they'd both spoken about the amulet, Sam had expected a necklace of some kind, not a ring. This made him feel marginally better; at least he wouldn't have to look at it every day and wish it was something else.

Taking the ring from Bobby, Sam picked up Dean's left hand and carefully slid the ring onto his finger. The situation was oddly intimate, and he found his own fingers lingering on the ring, on Dean's hand. As soon as he realised what he was doing, he let go as though he'd been burned. "How is it?" he asked cautiously to cover up his weirdness. "Does it work?"

Bobby raised an eyebrow at the visible relief on Sam's face. He supposed it was because he didn't want Dean wearing any other necklace than the one that Sam had given to him when they were kids, but he didn't comment. However, with the way Sam was holding Dean's hand and putting the ring on, Bobby couldn't help snickering, "I now pronounce you man and idjit."

Dean let out a surprised laugh at Bobby's comment, absurdly thankful for it. The moment between him and Sam had been intensely intimate, but he didn't think it was just from putting the ring on, not with the way Sam had been holding his hand. He cleared his throat and made himself relax, letting the ring adjust to him and he to it. Slowly, like an image building up from a radar screen, he began to get a mental image of the room. The ring seemed to be sending out a pulse that passed through him but bounced back to him from everything else, exactly like radar. He grinned. "Well, I can't see everything, but at least now I've got a mental map," he finally said, a little more happy with the situation. As long as he wasn't totally dependent on Sam—physically, at least—he could learn to cope with not being able to "see" any more than shapes.

Sam felt ridiculously embarrassed that Bobby had seen his moment of weirdness, but he managed to keep it off his face. Dean had only been blind for a day and Sam was already used to being able to let his emotions show through his expression or body language; he had to be more careful. "That's great!" he said, grinning for Bobby's benefit. "But don't forget that it's just a temporary solution. We're gonna find a way to fix your eyes properly, right Bobby?"

Bobby sobered and rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm gonna be looking," he said finally, glancing between Sam and Dean. The way they were orienting themselves around each other tickled something in the back of his mind, but he couldn't quite think of what. He gave a mental shrug, dismissing it for now.

"I can cope for a bit. Not like I haven't already been through Hell or anything," Dean said sarcastically. "I'd love to get my sight back, sure, but that's not important." He ran a hand over his face, surprised at how he was already quickly picking up on sounds he would have paid no attention to before he lost his eyesight. Sam, for instance, was shifting nervously, and Bobby's voice spoke of determination, but held no promise of results.

Sam sighed. There wasn't a whole lot he could say to that. Of course, in comparison to being in Hell, being blind was nothing—but that didn't mean that getting Dean's eyesight back wasn't important. Sam thought that he was so brave, trying to just take it in stride and not let it affect him, but he also knew that it wouldn't last for long. Dean wouldn't like the limitations being unable to see properly placed upon him, and before long he would be itching for his freedom. Sam was in awe of his brother, but he was also determined to help him.

Unable to fully articulate all of that aloud, he laid his hand on Dean's arm, hoping that he would understand. Sam was going to get Dean's sight returned to him, no matter what.

Dean felt Sam lay his hand on Dean's arm, and took a deep breath. "Look, I know you two want me to get back to normal as soon as possible, but I'm telling you that I will be fine. Not perfectly fine, and probably not for a while, but if we never find a cure? I will live with it. A Grace is pretty damn powerful; id be surprised if there was anything that could cure it." He closed his eyes for a second, and then said, "Anyway. Sam and I are going to go look at this bungalow about half an hour from here. I'm gonna need some stuff so I can pass for a normal blind person. Things like a guide dog, that stupid little white stick, and all that. Any idea where I can get that, Bobby?"

Bobby looked from Dean to Sam and back. He didn't want to just drop the subject, but he knew Dean. Dean wasn't going to give up on this without a fight; something as simple as blindness wasn't going to be the end of him. "Yeah, I know some people." He gave the boys the information they needed.

Half an hour later, they were sitting side by side in the Impala once again. Bobby had provided Dean with a cane and arranged for them to pick up a guide dog, because he was just that good. Sam glanced over at his brother, his gaze dropping to the ring that was acting as Dean's eyes. He didn't need help getting into the car anymore, but he still wasn't quite able to focus on Sam's face when he looked at him. It was a disappointment that Sam hadn't anticipated.

"Dog or bungalow first?" he asked, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. "We shouldn't actually need a guide dog with us when we view the place, as long as we tell the landlord that one will be living there too, but he said he'd be there all day so that doesn't have to be our first stop."

"Bungalow, then," Dean decided, staring straight ahead. "Best to look around, get a sense of where we're gonna put everything, especially the dog stuff." He was quiet for a moment. "Hell, Sammy, we're gonna get a dog," he said, breaking out in a sudden grin. "For once we'll actually get a dog that's not trying to attack us."

Sam had to laugh at that. Between invisible hellhounds and the dog that had ripped out Dean's jugular during the century of Tuesdays, they really didn't have a great track record when it came to canines. "You sure you'll be able to handle it, Dean?" Sam teased when he glanced to his right and saw the grin on his brother's face. "It's kind of domestic. You might keel over."

"May God save me from domesticity," Dean said dryly. He fell silent again, and when he spoke, his voice had a wistful note to it. "You know, before Mom... Before that night, I used to beg Mom and Dad for a dog... I'd use every little excuse I could, bugged them right out of their minds. I remember I always really wanted a Dalmatian."

Sam made an interested sound in the back of his throat. Dean rarely talked about the time _before_ , but Sam always liked it when he did. "I knew you always complained too much when I made you watch 101 Dalmations," he laughed. "I wonder if they train dalmations to be guide dogs?"

"I hope so," Dean said eagerly, starting to feel a little more excited—really excited—about this whole "settling down" thing. "And I only complained because, come on, I'm the big brother; it's my job to complain!"

"Yeah, yeah," Sam snorted as he turned the car onto the street the bungalow was on, slowing right down while he peered at house numbers. "Your job was to be a pain in my ass. We're here."

"You know it, Sammy," Dean smirked, opening the car door. He stepped out, and paused for a moment, letting the ring give him a map of the surrounding area. He was wearing a pair of sunglasses, and grabbed his spiffy(stupid) new white cane, using it for show as he walked over to Sam's side as they walked up the path to the front door.

Sam knocked on the door and it was opened almost immediately by a middle-aged man with short hair and a neatly trimmed beard. He smiled. "Hey, I'm Rob, you must be Sam?"

"Yeah, and this is Dean," Sam introduced them, shaking Rob's hand.

Rob twitched as though he was going to offer his hand to Dean, but then seemed to think better of it. "Well, it's nice to meet the both of you. I want to let you know right from the beginning that I have absolutely no problem with homosexual couples, and I hope we'll get along really well if you decide to pick this place."

Sam blinked into Rob's smiling face, suddenly uncomfortable. "Uh, no, we're not—"

"Come on in, come on in! I'll give you the tour! Uh, watch the step there, Dean."

Giving Dean a look that wasn't returned, Sam sighed and stepped over the threshold.

Dean figured that Sam had to be giving him the "oh-not-again" face, thanks to Rob's comment about homosexual couples, but he only grinned without commenting. He walked confidently into the house, pausing only slightly to let the ring do its job. He could feel as well as "see" the spaciousness of the bungalow, and he smiled. "It feels like a good place," he said, turning in Sam's direction. "What do you think?"

The bungalow was indeed very spacious, and bright and comfortable-looking. It was homey, and it wasn't lost on Sam that he'd never been able to say that about anywhere before. "It's great," he enthused, turning to beam at Dean. "Perfect, even. There's not a lot for you to walk into, anyway."

Rob gave Sam a strange look, still under the impression that they were lovers, not brothers, and clearly deeming that to be an insensitive comment. Dean would take it for the good-natured joke it was, though, so Sam just smiled at him and eventually he smiled back. "Come on, I'll show you the master bedroom. If you guys need handrails or anything fitted, just let me know, okay? Did you say you have a guide dog, Dean?"

Dean followed them down the hall. "I don't think I'll need handrails or anything like that," he said. "And my blindness is a... recent development, so I have not had a chance to get one yet. That's our next stop." He reached out and managed to pat Sam's shoulder on the first try. Having this radar ring was going to make things infinitely easier.

Sam felt Dean's hand on his shoulder and automatically covered it with one of his own, turning to smile at him. He couldn't seem to stop touching Dean, had had this problem since he realised he was blind, but it was nice to have his brother initiating some of the touches. "You okay?" he asked softly as they moved into the master bedroom, holding Dean's hand in place on his shoulder without really even realising it. "Do you like it here?"

Rob looked at them then, and a wide grin broke out on his face. "Aw, would you look at the two of you? You're both adorable, you really are. And the love between you, it's clearly epic, man." Once again, Sam opened his mouth to protest, but Rob cut him off before he even got a chance to start. "The main bedroom, where I'm guessing you'll both be sleeping, is nice and big, as you can see, Sam. Dean, you should be able to get around no problem. The other bedroom is smaller but it still fits a double bed in. The en suite, through here," Rob opens a door, "has a shower cubicle, and the main bathroom down the hall has a bath, but like I said I'll alter any facilities you need me to."

Pushing past them and back into the hall, Rob moved to show them the other bedroom. "So, how long have you two lovebirds been together?" he asked conversationally, and Sam actually chose not to answer. Let Dean tear him a new one; he usually enjoyed correcting presumptuous idiots like this guy.

"Yeah, I like it here." Dean shifted the hand that Sam had covered so that they were holding hands. Sam was gonna kill him for this, he knew. "And we've known each other our whole lives, but you could say we got together together a few years back," he informed Rob, pasting a sappy grin on his face, squeezing Sam's hand gently, silently telling him to play along.

Sam jerked at Dean's words, and hoped that Rob didn't notice. What the fuck was he playing at? "Uh, yeah," he stuttered out, following Dean's lead even as he subtly stepped on his foot. Hard. "Loved him for as long as I can remember but he wasn't exactly quick on the uptake." He was kind of unnerved by how true those words felt in his mouth, but he shrugged it off.

Rob didn't notice anything unusual about their behaviour, but his smile actually got wider, if that was even possible. He gave Sam the impression that he thought, by being overly accepting of their 'relationship', he would score more points with them. Really, he was acting like a bit of an idiot. "That's so sweet," he cooed, and Sam's stomach rolled. "Bet he was following you around like a lovesick puppy and you didn't even notice, Dean."

Once again, the truth in this made Sam uncomfortable. He had hero-worshipped his brother when they were younger, still did in a way, and he had followed him around—but like a lost puppy, not a lovesick one. That would be ridiculous.

Dean could feel Sam's discomfort radiating off of him in waves, and he squeezed his hand again, reassuringly. "Well, I will admit that when it comes to emotions, I'm not quick on the uptake, but once I know how I feel and what I want, I go for it." He followed Sam and Rob through the rest of the house, musing on how nice it felt to hold Sam's hand. They had never been physically affectionate—hell, they were hardly ever affectionate, period—and Dean found that he was enjoying the contact.

Dean's radar showed him that the house and yard—complete with a little picket fence, from the looks of it—had plenty of space for a dog. Hell, maybe even two.

They managed to get through the rest of the tour without Rob making any more comments about what a beautiful couple they made. Sam found that he really liked the bungalow. Infuriating landlord that thought he and his brother were lovers aside, it was pretty much perfect for them.

When Rob went outside to let them discuss their decision, Sam rounded on Dean; it was pretty much a given that they would be renting the bungalow, so he took the opportunity to vent some of his frustration. "What did you do that for?" he hissed, exasperated. "He thinks we're gay! What are you going to do when he turns up to fix a leaky faucet and he finds that two beds have been slept in and there's a woman in yours?"

Dean glared at Sam as much as he could. "I think we both know I'm not gonna be bringing any women back, not for a long time," Dean said shortly. Surprisingly, that realization didn't hurt as much as it should have, but Dean couldn't take the time to analyze that now. "Anyway, he's the landlord, not our mother; it's none of his damned business." Dean rubbed his free hand—the one not holding his cane—over his face. "Look, I really like this place. It's got plenty of space, nice, simple layout, and a big yard. And plenty of places to hide protection. I say we go for it."

Sam winced, realising his mistake with the whole women comment, but he couldn't really reassure Dean that he would still be able to score while Rob was right outside. He wasn't really sure that he wanted to, anyway. "That doesn't mean you had to let him think we're gay," he grumbled, put out by the whole situation. "But, even though you're a freaking moron, I agree. Let's go talk to the guy."

It didn't take long after that. Rob handed over the keys and told them to move in whenever was convenient for them over the next few weeks, and even agreed to drop the rent a little. They parted ways amiably and Sam made a show of helping Dean into the car because Rob was waiting for them to leave first.

"What did Bobby say about getting the guide dog again?" he asked as they drove away from what was to become their new—dare he think it?—home. He was surprised to find that he was kind of enjoying himself, and he really hoped that they could make this domesticity thing work, at least until Dean got his sight back.

Dean knew he'd had a smile on his face the whole time, but he couldn't help it. He really was looking forward to this normal-life thing, really looking forward to it, not like when he'd gone with Ben and Lisa after Sam had jumped into the cage.

"Said we had to go to the center; he'd arrange everything else," Dean replied in answer to Sam's question. "We should probably stop by the pet store first, though. Need food and all that other stuff."

Sam hummed in agreement and changed lanes so that they could turn at the upcoming junction instead of going straight. "You're right. I think I remember there being a pet store down here. It's a little one but we'll be able to get the basics." Soon enough, he located the little 'Pets R Us' store and pulled up outside it, turning to Dean. "Any requests? Or do you wanna come in with me?"

Dean laughed. "I'll come in; need to test this ring out in a more crowded situation, anyway." He got out of the Impala and then paused. The ring was sending out a pulse just big enough to cover the parking lot, but there were holes, mostly behind parked cars and other objects. "Interesting," he said thoughtfully as he moved to follow Sam. "Don't go too far, though," he added, smacking Sam in the calf lightly with his cane.

"Ow, jerk!" Sam whined, but he was also smiling and he knew Dean would be able to hear it in his voice. "I'm staying close, okay? Cool it. And what's interesting?" Their journey across the parking lot was slow-going, mainly because Dean had to feel out every step with his cane before he took it so as to keep up appearances, but at last they reached the store and Sam pulled the door open and held it for Dean to go through ahead of him.

Dean waited until they were strolling through the aisles before saying, "This ring, its's giving me a map, but it's like radar. So I can’t see anything right now beyond the shelves, since these... pulses, I guess, are bouncing back to the ring." He had to pause every time they entered a new area for the ring to map, but he figured anyone watching would just chalk it up to him being blind.

"Huh, that is interesting," Sam agreed as he grabbed two water/food bowls with little doggy pawprints on the sides. They already had food, opting for the cheapest brand until they could work out what their dog preferred, if anything. "Pretty cool though." He guided them into the next aisle and waited while Dean's 'vision' adjusted. "Do you have any preferences on beds? Guide dogs are pretty big, right? So you've got a choice of purple or black with white spots." Sam cringed.

Dean snickered. "Pretty horrible choices," he agreed. "Just grab one, though." He shifted, straightening. What the—"Sam," he hissed. "Is there a security camera nearby?"

Sam laughed and was just about to grab the black bed when Dean spoke again. His hand dropped away from the shelf while he glanced around. There was a camera, but it was facing away from them. "Not one that can see us," he answered, voice low to match Dean's. " What is it?"

"This image... everything else is perfectly clear, but that man at the end of the aisle, he keeps coming back different with every pulse." Dean was suddenly antsy. "C'mon; let's grab the bed and get out of here." He laid a hand on Sam's arm, almost clinging to it. He really didn't want to see any monsters right now. Well, not see. Encounter. "C'mon, Sammy; he's nothing big and he's not hunting for food."

Sam tensed and peered down the aisle toward the guy Dean was talking about. He looked like a regular Joe, but now they knew otherwise. Dean seemed pretty eager to leave though and Sam didn't want to cause a fuss in the middle of a pet store they would have to visit regularly from now on, so he covered Dean's hand with his own again, squeezing reassuringly, and moved them toward the front of the building. The guy looked up at them as they passed, but Sam just gave him a smile and kept walking.

They paid for everything and once they were back in the car Sam turned to his brother. "That thing lets you see demons?" he demanded, incredulous. "Was he even a demon? Could you tell?"

"No, he wasn't a demon. His form... it'd come back normal human size in one pulse, the next it would be blurry, indistinct." Dean leaned against the seatback, rubbing his hands over his face. It grated, not being able to go after the monster. "I couldn't get anything specific, I just knew he wasn't... normal." Dean forced himself to take deep breaths, to relax.

"Hey, it's okay," Sam soothed, reaching out to rub Dean's thigh. He wasn't sure if Dean was stressed because he'd been able to see the monster or because he hadn't been able to do anything about it, but he thought it might be a bit of both. "Do you want me to go after him?"

"No. No. Like I said, he wasn't hunting for food or anything. He was just... browsing the shelves." Dean took a few more deep breaths, and laid his hand over Sam's. The contact felt nice. "C'mon. Let's go get my guide dog."

"If you're sure." Sam flipped his hand over and laced his fingers through Dean's before he could stop himself, and then pulled away to get both hands on the wheel. His heart was beating a little faster than usual on the drive to the centre Bobby had directed him to, and he didn't think it had anything to do with their encounter with the monster or the prospect of getting a dog. What was happening to him?

Dean had felt Sam's pulse jump, but he didn't comment, too busy wondering why his own was hammering. The drive to the center was quiet, both brothers lost in their thoughts. Dean was trying to figure out just when the line between "Sammy's my brother" and "I love him" had become so blurred.

When they arrived at the center, Dean stepped out and smiled at the sound of dogs. An assistant came out, and Dean could hear the curiosity in her voice as she asked, "Sam and Dean Winchester?"

"Guilty as charged," Dean said, holding his cane in one hand, the other resting on the Impala. "I'm Dean; I'm the handsome one."

Sam rolled his eyes and tried not to think about the fact that he agreed with Dean. His big brother had always been better looking than him. "And I'm the modest one," he supplied, smiling at the girl. "You were told we were coming?"

The woman nodded. "Man named Bobby Singer called, told me his... nephews? Were coming." She turned to Dean. "He told me you lost your sight in a recent accident."

Dean nodded. "Yeah. Pretty recent." He followed Sam and the woman into the center, the woman leading the way.

"My name's Ariel, and I think I've got just the dog for you. His name's Zeus." She gave a little whistle, and Dean heard toenails clicking against the tile. After instructing Dean through the introduction process, she was quiet for a moment. "You know... Zeus has a brother. They're uncommonly attached to each other, and for Bobby... I could let you two have both. They're both trained seeing eye dogs."

Dean glanced up at Sam. "I'd be okay with that. What breed?"

"Dalmatians. Uncommon, yes, but these are two of the best we've ever trained." She glanced to Sam. "If it's okay with your partner, then I'll get the paperwork ready."

Sam had stood back to let Dean get acquainted with Zeus, a huge grin on his face because their new dog was a Dalmatian, but now he rolled his eyes. Bobby had called and told Ariel his _nephews_ were coming, but she still thought Sam was Dean's 'partner'. He stepped forward though and put a hand on Dean's shoulder to let him know he was there, appearances be damned. "That sounds great," he said, because it really did. Their place was big enough for two dogs and if Zeus would appreciate the company then why not? "What's his brother's name?"

Dean felt his grin grow wider when Sam agreed, and he reached back to squeeze Sam's hand gratefully. He knew it wasn't doing anything to dispel Ariel's misconception that they were a couple, and Sam was probably going to get after him for it—again—but right now, he really didn't care about much beyond the fact that they were going to make this work.

"His name's Hades," Ariel said. "Give me a moment, and I'll go and grab him." She walked out, reappearing a moment later with another Dalmatian in harness and leash. She let Dean get acquainted with Hades first, and then smiled as she saw the dogs familiarizing themselves with the two brothers. "They're both about two years old, and Hades is the more serious of the two. Zeus likes to get a little rough sometimes, but he knows his strength."

Dean ran his hands over both dogs' bodies, and found that Zeus was slightly leaner than Hades, with a more narrow face. His smile softened, and he shook his head, laughing. "Well, we went from no dogs to two in the space of about fifteen minutes," he chuckled.

Ariel grinned. "Let me just go get the paperwork, then," she said, waving cheerfully.

Sam was a little thrown by the warmth that blossomed in his chest as he knelt beside Dean so they could pet the dogs together. It said 'family' to him, it said 'normal', but it also said other things—like 'look at how beautiful his smile is' and 'kiss him'. When Ariel left them, Sam tried to shake the thoughts by returning to smartass little brother mode. "They're gorgeous dogs, Dean," he observed innocently, running his hand over Hades' head to scratch behind his ears. Time to get Dean back for failing to correct someone else who thought they were a couple. "Beats having assbabies, huh, _sweetheart_?"

"Definitely, _honey,_ " Dean said, reaching over and punching Sam on the shoulder. He was still petting Zeus, who seemed to have decided that he was now Dean's dog, and Hades had attached himself to Sam. He practiced a little bit of walking around with both Zeus and Hades. They both responded well to his commands and paid attention to him, not letting him walk into the wall and other things when he tried to on purpose(he already knew they were there, he just wanted to see what the dogs would do), and when he released Hades, telling him, "Good job, boy," he could hear Hades moving back over to Sam.

Dean smirked, his hand resting on Zeus's harness. "Seems like someone likes you," he snickered.

"Bet he'll treat me better than you ever will," Sam laughed, petting Hades before leading him back over to Dean and Zeus. "We don't have to work them like real guide dogs all the time, do we?" he asked lowly. "I've heard most won't go after a ball if you throw it and that's... kinda sad. We should teach them how to have fun."

Dean thought for a second. "I don't see why we have to. They seem really well trained, and didn't the woman say that they liked to play around with each other?" He heard Ariel coming back, and he turned to face her. "Hey, Ariel, do these dogs have to be on duty all the time?"

She tilted her head. "Well, no, actually. We tried out a new program, and these two have been trained so that when they're in harness, they won't mess around, but when you take the harness off, unless you specifically call for them or give them a command, they will relax, act like normal dogs, so to speak." She smiled at them, and handed the papers to Sam to sign.

Sam nodded in understanding and smiled. He knew that guide dogs were working animals, but Dean's ring meant that he wouldn't need to rely upon Zeus or Hades as much as someone without it might; it would hardly seem fair if the dogs couldn't let their hair down every now and then, so to speak. Signing the papers where Ariel indicated, Sam handed them back over and stroked Hades' head. "So can we take them home now?"

Ariel nodded. "Of course." She hesitated. "How far away do you live? That car doesn't look very safe..."

Dean snorted. "Honey, that car has seen us to Hell and back. It can handle a couple of dogs for twenty minutes." He smiled to show he was teasing her, and held out his hand. "Thank you," he said sincerely.

Ariel smiled and laughed, then shook Dean's hand. "You're welcome," she said. "You and Sam take good care of those dogs, now, you hear?"

"Yes, ma'am!" Dean snapped off a salute, and then instructed Zeus to lead him out of the center. When they got to the Impala, he opened the back door and let the dogs in, then tossed his cane in the backseat. "Here, your first chew toy," he informed them with a grin before sliding into the front seat.

Not to Sam's surprise, the dogs didn't touch the cane. They were actually very well-behaved as Sam drove back to Bobby's place, but that didn't stop him from teasing Dean. "Can't believe you're so calm about letting a couple of mutts sit in your Baby," he laughed, and then apologised to Zeus and Hades for calling them mutts. "Do you know when you want us to move into the bungalow? We probably should soon; Bobby might not be able to cope with these boys under his feet."

"Well, don't have much choice, do I? Besides, they're supposed to be well-trained, I doubt they're going to do anything." Dean thought for a second before answering Sam's second question. "Well, landlord said we could move in any time, and we've just got a couple of our duffels back at the motel room. And the place comes fully furnished, so I say we grab our stuff and go ahead and move in." A rush of warmth went through him, and he couldn't stop the happy little thought that he and Sam had a _home_ now.

"What, you wanna go now?" Sam didn't know why he hadn't expected Dean to be this enthusiastic; no matter how much they tried to hide it sometimes, they both wanted a home. "I guess we can just go to the motel, get our stuff and go back to the bungalow. But," he added, pulling out his cell and scrolling to Bobby's number before throwing it into Dean's lap. "You can call Bobby and explain why we're not going back there for dinner."

Dean pulled a face. "Fine, fine," he muttered. "But he's only half an hour from the bungalow; we can get our stuff, get it sorted, and still make it to Bobby's for dinner. Not like we're heading cross-country." And the thought of that should have terrified him, but it didn't. It felt nice to know that he had a home base now, and that they were close to Bobby. He dialed the number from feel, and held the phone to his ear.

"'Ello?" Bobby asked, the phone squished between shoulder and ear as he flipped through a book.

"Bobby, hey; it's Dean."

"Dean, how'd you dial the phone?" Bobby straightened, shutting the book and holding the phone to his ear with his hand.

"Sam did, but he's driving. Anyway, just wanted to say thanks. We ended up leaving with two dogs, both Dalmatians. Hades and Zeus. They're both trained, and the woman there—said her name with Ariel—said they were uncommonly attached to each other. Sam and I rented the bungalow, and it's got plenty of space, so we figured why not? So we're headed back to the motel to grab our bags, and then we're gonna dump the stuff in the house, then we'll head over to your place for dinner, if that's okay?" Dean took a deep breath. He was seriously getting way too excited about this.

Bobby laughed. "Remember to breathe occasionally, Dean, and I'll see you two idjits tonight. You'll have to tell me how that ring's working for ya."

Dean remembered the situation from earlier, and he said, "Yeah, definitely." He hung up, and set the phone on the seat beside him.

Sam suppressed a smile as he listened to Dean babble into the phone, and then remembered that he didn't have to. He couldn't remember the last time he'd heard Dean sound so happy. "You're really excited about this, aren't you?" he asked warmly when the call was over. If he was honest, Sam was, too.

Dean flushed slightly. "Yeah, I am. It's kinda scaring me how excited I am for this." He ran a hand through his short-cropped hair. "I mean, I never wanted domesticity. Like, ever. But now... Well, I keep thinking that we're actually going to have a home. Not just the Impala, though Lord knows she's been as good a home as any, but a home with four walls and a roof. And the fact that we now have two dogs," Dean reached back into the backseat and grinned when he felt one of the dogs—Zeus, from the shape of the head—push its head under his hand, "only makes it better. I really am excited for this."

"Well, you're allowed to be," Sam murmured, pleased. "We've been on the road for our whole lives and we've never had anything for ourselves. We deserve this, Dean." Behind him, Hades barked in agreement, and he laughed. "The dogs deserve this, too."

Dean smiled, glad Sam understood. "Well they better, considering I'm letting them ride in my baby." They were silent for the rest of the ride, and once they got to the motel, Dean got out and then opened the back door. "C'mon, boys," he said, waiting until he heard Zeus and Hades's paws hit the ground before grabbing Zeus's harness and walking into the motel. He could hear Hades walking beside Sam, and he smiled softly.

Sam was inexplicably pleased that even though he was Dean's dog, Hades seemed to have taken a shine to him—although it wasn't lost on him that the dog whose name was associated with Hell was the one who liked him best. "Stay," he instructed when they reached their room, and was pleased when Hades came to a stop. He patted Dean's arm. "I'll go in for the stuff; you stop out here and let the boys do their thing, okay?"

Dean nodded, and loitered around outside, just letting the mid-afternoon sun warm his face while the dogs did their business. He insisted on taking at least one bag—"Sam, I've got two hands and only one needs to be on the harness!"—out to the Impala and stowing it in the trunk.

Sam let Dean carry a bag to the car, but he wasn't happy about it. It occurred to him that he was being a little overprotective but could anyone really blame him? Maybe, now that he thought about it. He brightened a little when he discovered that an encouraging click of his tongue had Hades falling into step beside him.

They let the dogs into the back seat and Sam went to return the room key before getting behind the wheel. He turned to Dean, and was completely helpless to stop the cheesy line rolling off his tongue. "You ready to go home, Dean?"

Dean laughed. "Yeah, I am." He buckled his seatbelt, and suddenly everything felt surreal. They had a home, complete with furniture, two dogs, and each other. They were going to be putting protection down around the home, sure, but that didn't change the fact that it was _home._

When they got out, he called both dogs to him, and walked them through the house, letting them get acquainted with it before he took both harnesses off. "Go run," he ordered them, laughing and rubbing their heads affectionately. Both dogs parked and scampered through the house before barreling out the front door to run in the yard, nearly knocking Sam off his feet.

Sam jumped out of the way, barely preventing Zeus from knocking himself out on the bag with the dog food in it. "I think they like it here, man." He was laughing as he made his way over to Dean, handing the food over along with the bowls. "Put those in the kitchen? I'll have to go back to the store tomorrow, we didn't anticipate more than one new addition." Ten minutes later he had all of their, admittedly meagre, belongings stowed away in their rooms, and he joined Dean in the kitchen to get himself a glass of water. "I put you in the master, I figured that's where you'd want to be."

Dean had managed to manhandle the dog food bag into the pantry, only stumbling once. "Thanks," he said, turning back around. He stretched, and accidentally banged his elbow on the wall. "Fuck," he muttered, rubbing it. He chuckled. "Still not coordinated while in a house, I guess." He heard barking in the yard, and headed out the back door to the patio, where a couple of lawn chairs were laid out. He hesitated, letting the ring work, and then he headed for the chair on the right. He tilted his head back and smiled. "Sounds like they're having fun."

Sam joined Dean on the patio and sat down in the chair beside him, smiling as he watched their dogs chasing each other up and down. "They are," he confirmed, sounding as content as he felt. "Hades has a patch over his right eye, and Zeus' tail is almost completely black. They're beautiful dogs, Dean. You'll be able to see them soon."

Dean shrugged. "If I do, great. If not... Like I said, Sam, I can learn to live with being blind." The implications of that struck him, suddenly. It wasn't just not ever seeing their dogs, it was not seeing _Sam._ Not seeing Sam while he was alive was one thing he didn't think he'd ever have to deal with again, not after Stanford. He was quiet, and then said, "I'm glad you're here, Sam."

Sam sensed the change in Dean's mood and, once again succumbing to the inexplicable desire to touch, he reached across the space between their chairs to brush his fingers against the back of his brother's wrist. "Me too," he murmured, voice soft and sincere. "Not going anywhere, Dean, I promise. However this works out, we'll deal with it."

Dean smiled, turning his hand to lace his fingers with Sam's. "Yeah. Something like this isn't going to get the best of us." He tried hard to not analyze the tiny beams of warmth currently shooting up his arm from their joined hands. He'd been trying to forget about his dream from the night before, thinking it was just stress-induced, but with the way he was feeling now... It felt like something more. Dean fell quiet, just listening to what he was beginning to identify as the sounds of home: Hades and Zeus romping in the back yard, Sam shifting on the lawn chair beside him, the wind through the branches of the oak tree in the back corner.

Sam gave Dean's hand a squeeze and fought the urge to let go. Dean had initiated this contact, so he clearly needed it, and if he was honest so did Sam, but there was something about it that made him feel uncomfortable. Or, rather, _too_ comfortable. He liked the warmth of Dean's skin against his, gun-calloused fingers creating a pleasant contrast with the smoothness of their palms. This was something he could get used to: relaxing in the yard with their dogs playing around them and the breeze rustling in the trees, holding hands with Dean. It was a little unnerving.

It took several moments, but Sam finally realised that he wasn't the only one being strangely quiet. He tugged on Dean's hand a little. "What're you thinking?"

Dean jumped when Sam tugged on his hand, and he realized that he had been stroking the back of Sam's hand gently with his thumb. He blushed and pulled his hand from Sam's, and missed the contact almost immediately. "How we've only been here all of fifteen minutes, and this already feels like home," he said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees as he closed his eyes(not that it made much difference) and smiled at the sound of Hades growling playfully at Zeus.

Sam wasn't surprised when Dean released his hand, but he was surprised by how disappointed it made him feel—so much so that he left his hand hanging there for a moment while he tried to process it. When he noticed, he was quick to retract it and tuck it under his leg, trying to retain some Dean's warmth. "It's a good thing though," he said, gaze tracking the movements of the dogs as they played tug of war with a stick found at the base of the oak tree. Zeus won and they started up again. "It just means that for the first time ever, we're comfortable. We'll be okay here."

Dean grinned. "Yeah, we'll be good," he said. That annoying little voice in the back of his mind reminded him of his dreams and the way he'd been feeling lately, and asked if they could really be good when he could never have Sam?

***

That night, he whistled for both dogs, but only put the harness on Zeus before loading them into the back of the Impala. He climbed into the front seat, and relected on how odd it felt to be sliding into the passenger seat instead of the driver's seat.

"You should put the harness on Hades tomorrow, give Zeus a break," Sam suggested as he pulled the Impala out of their driveway and headed in the direction of Bobby's place. "I'm sure Zeus and I will get on well enough." He wanted to say something about Dean getting back behind the wheel soon, but he'd finally worked out that Dean didn't like hearing stuff like that when they still didn't know for certain if his blindness would be permanent.

They'd both been in a weird mood for the rest of the afternoon, Sam trying to deal with his changing feelings toward Dean and Dean... Sam had no idea where his big brother's head was at. Hopefully spending a few hours at Bobby's would sort them out.

"Yeah, I will," Dean said. All afternoon, he'd been wrestling with the realization that his dream from the night before wasn't just stress-induced. He still didn't know what the hell he was feeling towards Sam, but it sure wasn't brotherly, that much he did know. Harder still was trying to figure out when his feelings had progressed beyond sibling love.

When they arrived at Bobby's, Dean got out and opened the back door, letting the dogs out and chirruping at Zeus to call him to his side. They'd figured out that Hades would answer to a click of the tongue, but you had to actually whistle or make some other slightly more obvious noise to get Zeus's attention. Letting Hades walk with Sam, Dean grabbed Zeus's harness and followed Sam through the yard and up to Bobby's house.

"I hope he's making stew," Sam muttered as he led them across the yard, trying to pick his way through the various bits of crap littering the floor and trusting Zeus to do the same for Dean. "Hey, does the ring work differently in the dark or can you see with it the same as you can in the day?" He let them into Bobby's house himself, knowing better than to disturb him while he was cooking, and called out to him once they'd shut the door behind them.

"It's radar, basically; works the same night or day," Dean answered, heading for the kitchen table. "Sit," he told Zeus, and waited until he heard Zeus's rump hit the ground before taking the halter off. "Go run," he said, and let Zeus and Hades explore Bobby's house.

Bobby had caught sight of the Impala coming up, but he hadn't seen the boys get out, since he was busy making stew. After they'd come in, Bobby set the stew to simmering. "Hey," he said, waving the spoon at Dean. "Whaddaya think yer doin, lettin those mutts run loose through my house?"

Sam laughed as he joined Dean at the table, practically salivating as the scent of Bobby's fantastic stew filled the room. "Sorry Bobby, but they've been cooped up in the car, they need to stretch their legs. They're good boys though, kinda like—" He stopped himself before he could say 'us', because he somehow didn't think that would help his case. He changed the subject. "That smells great; how long 'til we eat?"

Bobby scowled at Sam. "I know what ya were gonna say," he said menacingly, but softened when Hades and Zeus came trotting back into the kitchen. Zeus promptly lay down beside Dean, laying his head on one of Dean's boots, and Hades flopped to the floor by Sam, panting up at him happily.

Dean laughed and reached down to rub Zeus's head, scratching him behind the ears. "They really are well-behaved," he promised Bobby.

Bobby snorted and went back to finishing up the stew. When it was done and he'd handed Dean and Sam both bowls and grabbed one for himself, he sat down at the table. "So, how's that ring been working for ya?" he asked Dean.

Dean finished his mouthful and said, "Great. Works just like radar." He hesitated, and then added, "But it... Well, it's got a side effect."

Bobby glanced sharply from Dean to Sam. "What kind of side effect?" he asked suspiciously.

Sam sighed as he swallowed his own mouthful and set his spoon down. He'd kicked his boots off shortly after they'd arrived and he was rubbing Hades' belly with his socked foot beneath the table. "While we were out earlier, we came across a monster of some kind. Or, Dean did. He could see it. Is that... normal?"

Bobby frowned. "What in the hell is this idjit talking about?" he demanded, turning to Dean.

Dean sighed. "Look, the ring, it works like radar, or maybe sonar. It sends out a pulse, and whenever the pulse hits something, it bounces back, giving me a location. When we were in the pet store, getting food, there was this guy at the end of the aisle. He looked normal, at first—well, the pulse came back, showing him in a normal human shape—and then the next pulse, he was indistinct. Sometimes he'd be smaller than normal, other times he'd just be blurry... Anyway, we hauled ass out of there. You know about that?"

Bobby's frown deepened. "Well, I suppose it makes sense, if that was a monster in disguise, like a wraith or something else that changes shape. Either way, I don't think it's a bad thing." He glanced down at the two Dalmatians, one laying beside each brother. "So how'd you get two?" he asked, changing the subject. "I only told Ariel to get y'all one."

Sam was relieved that the whole seeing-monsters thing wasn't a big deal to Bobby; he didn't really know why it would be, but it had unnerved him and he knew it had done the same to Dean.  They were back on familiar territory now though and this was a question with an easy answer.  Or not.  "Well, she tried to give Zeus to us originally, but she said that he had a brother he was pretty attached to and she didn't want to see them seperated.  We have the room at the bungalow, so we said yes—and we got Hades, too."  It pretty much went unsaid that the fact that he and Dean could understand the whole codependent brother thing had also played a big part in their decision.  "Hades seems to like me better than Zeus does, but well," Sam gave a wry smile, "no surprises there, huh?"

It took Bobby a second, but then he chuckled. "I guess not," he snickered.

Dean laughed, and rubbed Zeus's head affectionately. "They're both trained as Seeing Eye Dogs, and they both know their jobs really well." He grinned across the table to Sam. "Told Sam about my old obsession with Dalmatians. Wouldn't believe how happy I was when Ariel told us that Zeus and Hades were Dalmatians."

Sam had to just sit back and appreciate the moment.  Here was Dean, his loudmouth, obnoxious, over-confident, perpetually miserable brother—talking about being _happy_.  And he meant it, too; Sam could tell that by the look on his face.  It was kind of surreal, but it was also amazing.  If he'd known that all it would take to make Dean smile like this was a dog, he would have bought a puppy in every damn town they went to.  "Must've been fate," he chipped in belatedly when he realised that he was kind of staring at Dean, and cut his gaze to Bobby.  It definitely wouldn't be acceptable to pass off as a couple here.

Bobby looked at Sam sharply. All day, he'd been puzzling over the boys' odd behavior this morning, and the look on Sam's face confirmed the sneaking suspicion that had been growing in his mind. He knew he'd have to talk to Sam about it, but not right now, not with Dean listening. And he'd also have to talk to Dean about it. It wasn't like it was any surprise, really. Not with the way the two brothers had grown up. They  had never had anyone other than themselves, not really. "Must have," Bobby finally said.

Dean may have been blind, but even he could practically see the tension between Sam and Bobby. In true Winchester fashion, however, he elected to ignore it, instead going back to eating. Maybe he could convince Sam to tell him what it was about later, but he doubted Sam would be willing to talk about much of anything that wasn't a safe, neutral topic.

When the three of them had finished eating, Dean had excused himself, relying on memory to find the bathroom. Bobby took the opportunity to turn to Sam. "What is going on with you two?" he demanded, his voice low. He didn't want to tip Dean off; if he knew that boy, Dean's hearing would already have sharpened exponentially.

Sam had seen this coming a mile off, but that didn't mean that he had any idea how to answer Bobby's question.  He'd been asking himself the same thing for the last two days and had so far come up with nothing.  Maybe denial was the best tactic here.  "What do you mean?" Sam asked, all wide-eyed innocence.  "Maybe things have been a little tense between us but we're still adjusting to some things.  It's just brother stuff."  And wasn't that just the final nail in his coffin?  Whatever Sam was feeling for Dean went so far beyond 'brother stuff', it wasn't even in the same galaxy.

Bobby snorted. "Boy, I didn't fall off the apple cart yesterday," he said, his voice gravelly and rough. This was just plain damned embarrassing, having to have this talk about the two men he considered his own sons apparently falling in love with each other. "The way you look at him, now that he can't see you? You might as well be flashing a neon sign that you're falling for him, Sam."

Sam flinched.  In fact, he almost fell off the chair.  Beside him, Hades raised his head and whined in concern; Sam petted him absentmindedly as he stared, open-mouthed, at Bobby.  "It's not... I'm not... That's..." He couldn't deny it, though.  For all that he had refused to put a name to whatever was happening to him up until now, he knew inexorably that Bobby was right.  He was falling in love with Dean.  His big brother.  Sam groaned and closed his eyes.  "I'm sorry, Bobby," he whispered, defeated.  "I don't even know how...  D'you—Should I leave?"

"What? Hell no!" Bobby said. "Boy, this ain't exactly a surprise. Not with the way you two grew up. You can't trust anyone else enough to love them this much." He heard Dean coming back, Zeus's paws padding on the hardwood floor beside him, and looked back at Sam. "I don't care, Sam. Hell, I'm happy for you," he said, his voice pitched low enough that he knew Dean couldn't hear.

Dean came back into the kitchen, and paused. The air was charged with tension even he could feel. "Did something happen while I was gone?" he asked in confusion as he walked back over to his chair, Zeus sitting down beside him. He could feel Zeus's tense body pressed against his leg, and he reached down to stroke the Dalmatian's head soothingly.

Sam was about to answer when Dean walked back into the room, so he just shook his head at Bobby.  There was nothing to be happy about; Sam may have had feelings for Dean, but Dean didn't return them.  He was an awesome big brother; he would never even think about crossing that line.  Now that he had been forced to acknowledge the depth of his affections, Sam would just have to learn to live with it in silence and hope that Dean never noticed.

"Uh, no," he answered, trying to keep his tone light.  "I was just telling Bobby about our new place."

"Hm," Dean said, unconvinced. He _knew_ something had happened; he just didn't know what. "Yeah, our new place is great. Lots of space for the boys, lots of space for me and Sam, and plenty of places to hide protection."

The rest of the evening passed amicably, and then it was time for Sam and Dean to be heading back home. Zeus was snoring on Dean's boots, while Hades had apparently converted into an amorphous state and was sprawled all over Sam's feet. Dean reached down and patted Zeus on the stomach, giving an encouraging whistle through his teeth. Zeus sat up immediately, and Dean smiled when he heard Zeus yawn and shake his head, his collar rattling. Already adept with the harness, Dean quickly put it on. "Well, I guess we should be going," he said, standing up.

Following Dean's lead, Sam wriggled his toes beneath Hades and clicked his tongue, and the dalmation roused immediately, except maybe a little slower than Zeus had.  It was clear, how differently behaved when they were working compared to when they weren't.  Sam patted Hades on the head before pulling his boots on and moving to stand beside Dean.  "Thanks for everything, Bobby," he mumbled, knowing that Bobby would understand that he was grateful for more than the food.  "We'll see you soon, okay?"

They left quickly and without fuss, and soon they were back on the road, driving home.  Home.  Sam was still amazed at how good that felt.  "I enjoyed tonight," he said with a smile that Dean would be able to hear in his voice.  "We should do it more often, now that we can.  Maybe even have Bobby over for dinner at our place sometime?"

Dean felt himself smiling in response to Sam's suggestion. "Once we learn how to cook, yeah," he said, snickering. "I mean, I can still make a sandwich or something small, but nothing like Bobby's soup."

Once they got back to the bungalow, Dean let the dogs out of the Impala and then waited until they'd done their business before whistling for them to follow him and Sam into the house. He automatically went for the salt in the pantry, and began spreading it over the windows. "We'll have to put down permanent salt lines," he commented as he concentrated on not spilling more salt than strictly necessary onto the carpet in the living room.

"Come here, I'll do that," Sam offered, moving over to where Dean was standing and taking the salt from him.  "Why don't you feed the boys and go to bed? I'll finish up here and paint a devil's trap under the welcome mat and then I'll join you."  He cringed at his own words, feeling his cheeks flame.  "Uh.  I mean, I'll go to bed too."

Dean had opened his mouth to protest that he could lay some damned salt on the windowsills, but his mouth slammed shut when Sam had said he'd join him in bed. He blinked a few times, wondering why the hell that should make his stomach jump and curl in delighted anticipation. Finally he managed to say, "Um. Okay. Night, then," and walk back into the kitchen, pouring food for the boys before making his way down to his bedroom. Dean undressed and slipped into the bed quietly, feeling slightly weird that Sam wasn't in the room with him. _Gonna have to get used to it, Winchester,_ he told himself sternly. _Sammy's a big boy, now; he can sleep in his own room, and you can sleep in yours._

Sam felt weird going to sleep without Dean in the same room too, but he knew he had to man up and deal with it. After two hours of tossing and turning, he finally fell asleep—and he dreamt of his brother. But these weren't the racy dreams of his teenage years that he'd long since repressed; these were nightmares, in which Dean found out about his sick desires, laughed at him, rejected him, even tried to kill him. He'd only been asleep for ten minutes when he was jerking awake, a harsh cry of "Dean, no!" on his lips. It took him several moments to get his bearings, and then he collapsed against the pillows, breathing hard.

Dean had barely fallen asleep when he felt something heavy land on the bed. An instant later, a paw was pressing into his chest and a wet nose was pushing against his cheek. Zeus had jumped on the bed and was whining anxiously. "Okay, okay, I'm up; what is it?" he asked, then thought, _Why the hell am I talking to a dog?_ He could hear Hades pacing, and when Zeus jumped down from the bed and whined again, Dean decided it couldn't hurt to follow the dogs. He held a hand out. "Lead," he said simply, and then followed the boys down the hall to Sammy's room, arriving outside the door just in time to hear an agonized, "Dean, no!" coming from Sam's room, and he rushed in without thinking. "Sam, you okay?" he asked, hesitating beside the bed. He still had the sonar ring on, and he twisted it nervously as he waited for Sam to reply.

Sam jumped when Dean came into the room and actually shied away from him before he caught himself and stopped it. "I'm okay; just a n-nightmare," he stammered awkwardly and he finally realised that he was shaking. "Sorry I woke you."

"You didn't; Zeus and Hades did." Dean sat down on the edge of the bed, frowning when he felt the small tremors from Sam's body. "Sam, that must've been one hell of a nightmare; you're shaking like a leaf." He wished he could see Sam so he could better comfort him, it didn't feel right to be sitting here without being able to see Sam.

Against his better judgement, Sam groped in the darkness for Dean's hand and squeezed it tight. "I'm okay," he said again, although he sounded even less convincing this time than the first. Now that he was listening, he could hear the dogs shuffling uneasily outside the room, and it was kind of nice to know that they were looking out for him. "It was a bad one, but I'll live." That didn't explain why he was still clinging to Dean's hand as though his life depended on it. "Want me to help you back to bed, or?"

Dean didn't answer for a moment, too busy trying to not think about how nice it felt to have Sam hold his hand. When Zeus and Hades came over and jumped up on the bed, settling at the foot of it, he decided to follow their lead. "Scoot," he told Sam, slipping under the covers.

The last thing Sam expected was to be sharing his bed with two dogs, let alone his brother. He tensed at Dean's instruction but did as he was asked, moving to the other side of the bed to make room. Hades was lying on his feet, but it was the warmth from Dean beside him that eventually got Sam to relax, and he found himself inching closer, seeking comfort.

Dean settled down under the covers, shifting and arranging his feet around the two dogs at the foot of the bed. When he felt Sam moving closer, he reached out blindly and pulled Sam closer, tucking his younger(but not littler) brother up against his side. "Just like old times," he chuckled. But the voice at the back of his mind reminded him that no, this wasn't like old times, not with how he was rapidly starting to realize he felt about Sam.

Sam shuddered a little, fully aware of how not like old times this was. At least, not for him. Being pressed up against Dean's body like this felt better than it ever had before, and Sam's stomach churned with guilt. He was essentially taking advantage of Dean, using him for comfort and reassurance when he knew that if Dean found out about the way his feelings had changed toward him, he would do everything he had done in Sam's nightmare and then some.

It wasn't enough to make Sam pull away though. If that was going to happen, he figured he might as well take what he could from Dean while it was still on offer. He turned into Dean's warmth and buried his face in the crook of his neck, using the lingering fear from the dream as an excuse to snuggle closer.

Dean could feel Sam's heart pounding and could hear his mind working. He sighed, shoved aside his own more-than-brotherly feelings, and started stroking Sam's hair, the way he had when they were kids and Sam had had a nightmare. "I've got you, Sam," he murmured. "I'm not going anywhere." And he wasn't, he realized. Never again. Not only because he was now blind, but because he couldn't leave Sam behind. He'd been without Sam only a few years in his life, and those years had been worse than all the years he'd spent in Hell.

Sam made an embarrassing sound in the back of his throat that totally wasn't a whimper, and leaned into Dean's touch. Maybe, just this once, he could pretend that Dean was holding him for reasons that were far from brotherly. Who knew when this would happen again? Sam closed his eyes and breathed in Dean's scent, allowing the hand moving in his hair to soothe him to sleep.

As Sam drifted off to sleep, Dean had to constantly remind himself that Sam was his _brother_ , not his lover, so keep the touch friendly but nothing more, Winchester. Eventually, though, Dean drifted to sleep to the sound of his brother and their dogs snoring softly(except for Zeus. He snored like a damned freight train.).

When Sam woke up, he felt like he was melting. Zeus was sprawled out across the bottom of the bed and Hades had somehow managed to end up lying at the side of Sam, sandwiching him between a huge dalmation and Dean. Dean, who Sam was apparently wrapped around like some kind of human octopus—and even as his mind started to shriek in panic, other parts of him began to rouse in interest. Trapped as he was between the other members of his household, he was completely helpless to escape the bed; all he could do was try to angle his hips away from Dean and hope that someone moved soon.

Dean managed to sleep through the night, but when Zeus rolled over and crushed his ankle, his woke up, swearing. "Jesus Christ, it's like an oven in here!"

Dean frowned. There was something attached to him. Glancing over, he snorted. Right. Sam. He carefully disentangled himself from Sam's tentacles(Jeez, did the guy grow extra limbs when he slept?) And get off of the bed. He stretched, popping out a kink in his back. "Morning, Sam," he said over his shoulder.

Sam took advantage of the extra space immediately, rolling onto his front into the spot Dean had just been occupying. He totally didn't bury his face in Dean's pillow to inhale the smell of him while it still lingered. Honestly. "Hey," he responded, turning his head to look up at his brother. "Sorry about last night, man."

Dean shrugged. "Like I said, it was no problem. Nothing I haven't had to do before." He whistled for the boys. "I'll let the boys out," he told Sam, and then led the dogs out to the backyard, trying not to wish too hard to return to Sam's bed, Sam's embrace.

Well, that was that. Sam had slept so peacefully in Dean's arms, but he kind of wished that he'd stayed awake to enjoy it more. It couldn't happen again, them sharing a bed, even if it meant Sam had to forgo sleep altogether so as to avoid the dreams. Feeling particularly miserable, Sam got up and went to the bathroom before wandering into the kitchen, passing a hand over the small of Dean's back to let him know he was there. "Coffee?"

Dean had jumped when Sam touched him, almost spilling the bowl of dog food in his hand. "Yeah, coffee sounds good," he replied, cursing himself. After he'd put the food out for the dogs and propped the back door open(it was a nice day), he went back to the pantry. "We'll have to go grocery shopping today," he decided, feeling the empty shelves. "Can't exactly live on diner food now that we've got a house."

Sam laughed as he poured coffee into two mugs, fixing Dean's just how he liked it. "Do you even know what normal food tastes like?" he teased, pressing a mug into Dean's hand before picking his own up. "We can get what we need when we go for the extra dog stuff." The thought of the pet store sent a shiver through Sam as he recalled how unnerved Dean had been the day before. "Hopefully we won't come across any more monsters."

Dean laughed. "I vaguely remember," he teased, but sobered as he remembered the monster from the day before. "I hope not, either," he said, taking a sip of his coffee.

An hour or so later, when they'd eaten and showered and dressed, they were back in the car. Hades was in harness today and Zeus seemed a bit wary of Sam but he was confident that they'd get to like each other soon enough. "What first, people food or dog bowls?" he asked as he guided the car onto the street. Behind them in the back seat, the boys barked. Sam chuckled. "I guess that's our answer."

Dean laughed. "Yeah, guess we're heading to the pet store." He and Sam were quiet for the ride to the store, and when he got out, he grabbed Zeus's leash. He let the boys out, clipped the leash to Zeus and then crouched down to hold Zeus's head in his hands. "Be nice to Sam," he said sternly. "He's my brother, just like Hades is yours." He stood up and handed Zeus's leash to Sam, then grabbed the handle of Hades's harness. "All right, let's go," Dean said. With the held of the sonar ring and Hades, he strode confidently across the parking lot.

Zeus was a little difficult at first, whining for Dean as they made their way across the parking lot, but he fell into step beside Sam without much more complaint and soon he was pulling at the leash and getting under Sam's feet, eager to play once he realised that this was his day off. A whistle from Sam and a promise to let them run later had him settling down though, and they made it into the pet store without any fuss.

"Anything out of the ordinary?" Sam asked Dean as they wandered through the aisles. He was keeping an eye out for the guy from yesterday but so far he hadn't seen him.

Dean paused for a second. "I don't see anything from the ring. And Hades and Zeus aren't acting weird, either, so I guess it's clear."

An assistant approached them. "I've never seen someone with two Seeing Eye Dogs before," he commented. "Weren't you two in here yesterday?"

"Um, yeah," Sam answered, surprised. Zeus stepped forwards to sniff at the guy and then moved back, tucking in close to Sam's side. Apparently he didn't have treats in his pocket—Sam did, but he wasn't going to tell Dean that. "We knew we were getting a guide dog so we came in to get some stuff, but then we ended up with two so now we need more. They're brothers; we didn't want to separate them."

"Really?" the assistant asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise. "Well, that's very interesting. So I assume you need some more food and whatnot?" He led Dean and Sam over to the dog food, and pointed out a few different brands.

Dean wasn't really paying much attention—Sam was the one in charge of their money, after all—so he was focusing more on the ring's map and Hades than he was on Sam and the assistant. He straightened suddenly when Hades growled, and on the next pulse a figure at the end of the aisle came back indistinct. He shushed Hades, and turned to Sam. "Sam," he muttered, laying a hand on Sam's shoulder and moving closer. "End of the aisle. That guy, he's back."

The assistant glanced at them, and smirked, slightly uncomfortable. "Well, I'll leave you two to it, then," he said, waving as he walked off. He chuckled to himself. It was obvious the two men were in love with each other, and just as obvious that neither of them could see it.

Sam was engrossed in the conversation about dog food so he didn't even notice when Zeus started to shift uncomfortably beside him. He jumped when Dean spoke but immediately zeroed in on him and failed to say goodbye or thanks to the assistant as he walked away. Sam glanced as subtly as he could toward the end of the aisle. Sure enough, the guy from yesterday had returned. "I see him," Sam murmured under his breath. "What do you want to do?"

Dean focused on Hades for a second. The dog was still rumbling, but not outright barking or acting hostile. Just alert and uncomfortable. "Let's walk by with the boys, see what they do," he said. "I can't get a good image of his true form, he just keeps coming back blurry." He took Hades and started walking down towards the end of the aisle, and suddenly Hades refused to walk closer to the man, just stood in front of Dean's legs, not letting him walk any further.

Sam was close behind Dean but as soon as he drew level, Zeus began acting the same way. He grabbed the sleeve of Dean's jacket even as the guy they were apparently hunting now turned to look at them strangely. Sam just shrugged and smiled. "Dogs, huh? Who knows?" he laughed, before lowering his tone again. "Dean, I have nothing on me. No gun, no salt; nothing."

Dean wanted to growl right along with the dogs. "Dammit, Sam," he whispered, glaring sightlessly at his brother as they turned away, grabbed the dog food, and headed for the checkout. "We may be moving into a normal life, but that doesn't mean you leave the house unprotected!" Dean had some salt on him, but he didn't even know what the damn thing was, didn't know if the salt would work on it.

Sam was just as frustrated with himself as Dean was. He'd been more than a little out of it that morning, still trying to process his developing feelings and work out where they fit in his life with his brother, but there was no excuse for his carelessness—expecially when Dean was vulnerable now in a way he never had been before.

He didn't speak again until they got outside, Zeus and Hades still grumbling in concern and fear. "It's not like we could have shot him in the middle of the store," he reasoned as they reached the car, hating the thought of Dean being disappointed in him. "We'll come back tomorrow better prepared. What did Bobby say he might be, a wraith? How do you kill those?"

"Bobby just said he was something that used a human form to conceal his true one," Dean grumbled, opening the door for the boys. "We have no clue what exactly he is." He thought about the dogs' reactions. "Whatever he is, he's low-level, or else the boys would have gone nuts." He climbed into the front seat. "C'mon, let's go get some food for us, and then get groceries. Then maybe we can start trying to figure this out." _All of this,_ he added silently.

The rest of the day went by without event, but that was mainly because they didn't talk to each other. They found a small cafe to eat in and then made a quick grocery run, and if Dean saw any more monsters Sam remained oblivious. By the time they got back home, Sam was about ready to snap and the dogs were restless and confused, not understanding the tension between their masters. He let them into the back yard to run off some of the stress of the day and then turned to Dean. "If you're gonna yell at me, then yell at me."

Dean sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Look, Sam, I don't want to yell, but how could you forget all those years of training? I can't protect you anymore, Sam!" Dean rubbed a hand over his face, turning from Sam as the truth of his own words hit him. He couldn't protect Sam. How could he protect Sam when he couldn't see anything unless it was an indistinct form on the map from the ring? "I can't protect you, Sam," he repeated. "I know you can protect yourself, but I'm worried about whether you will, whether you'll still keep up with protections and keeping your weapon and everything with you, or whether you'll just fall into this whole semi-normal life thing and end up getting yourself killed. You're a Winchester, Sam. You were the Devil's vessel. You have _enemies,_ not just human ones! Every single damned supernatural creature wants to kill us, simply because we have offed so many of their relatives." Dean stopped talking, rubbing both hands over his face. It killed him that he couldn't watch Sam's back.

"I know, Dean," Sam insisted, exasperated with himself and his brother. "I know. My head's been all over the place lately, but that's no excuse. It was careless and stupid and I'm sorry. But you're right. I can take care of myself. If that thing had attacked me today I would have had a good chance of getting away, weapon or not. Can you not worry about me? Can you please get mad because _I_ wouldn't have been able to protect _you_?"

"Why should I get mad about that, Sam?" Dean asked angrily. "I know we've always had each other's back, but I'm the older brother, dammit!" He started pacing, scrubbing a hand over his hair. "I'm the older brother, and I know you've protected me plenty of times in the past, but ever since the night Mom died and Dad threw you in my arms, you've been my responsibility, not the other way around! I'm supposed to be protecting you, Sam. You shouldn't have to worry about me." The last sentence came out in a whisper as Dean stopped by the kitchen sink, leaning against the counter. Sam was his responsibility. His little brother. He wasn't supposed to be falling in love with his little brother. And that's what had him so upset, he realized. He was supposed to be protecting Sam, and—thanks to his stupidity in looking at a dying angel—now he couldn't. It didn't matter that he knew that Sam could protect himself. He was still upset because he couldn't make sure the one person he loved most in this world was safe.

Sam sighed, watching Dean's tirade fizzle out and die.  It was always easier to see Dean mad than miserable; maybe it was selfish, but Sam still liked thinking of his big brother as invincible, untouchable.  They had both been reminded of Dean's mortality recently, and it was obviously hitting Dean hard.  Sam was completely helpless to do anything except cross the room and get his arms around Dean, hold him as if that could take away all the pain and confusion and wait until Dean felt better enough to kick him and call him a girl.  "I know you've always looked after me," he said softly, placatingly, "and I'm so grateful for that, I swear.  But it's your turn to be looked after, Dean.  Let me return the favour a little, won't you?  I need to do this."

Dean sighed and let his arms come back around Sam's waist, his face resting in the crook of Sam's neck. "I know. I'm just... having a hard time accepting this." He swallowed, hard, and forced himself to remember all the reasons why he should _not_ be enjoying having Sam's arms around him. After a few moments, he shoved against Sam's chest, stepping out of his embrace. "Thanks," he muttered, turning and walking out the back door to go sit on the patio.

After he'd settled into the lawn chair, he heard one of the dogs come up to him. When he laid his head in Dean's lap, Dean realized it was Zeus. "Hey, buddy," Dean murmured, reaching down and rubbing Zeus's head affectionately. "Be glad you're a dog," he said, laughing slightly bitterly. "Lot less complicated than being human."

Hades padded past Dean and up to Sam, who was standing in the doorway. He pent to pet the dalmation, scratching him behind the ears in an attempt to soothe him. Both dogs were still worried about them, and Sam was impressed by how sweet they were.

"Come on, boy," he encouraged when Dean spoke to Zeus, clicking his tongue as he stepped out onto the patio to sit in the chair beside his brother. Hades settled at his feet almost immediately. "What does that mean?"

Dean sighed. He should have known that Sam wouldn't just let it go. "I mean, for them, it's simple: They're brothers. They both protect each other, no worrying about who's supposed to be protecting who. They just... They just care for each other." He scratched Zeus under the chin. _They don't have to worry about falling in love with their sibling._ He didn't look up, just focused on petting Zeus, who just sat next to Dean, gazing up at him soulfully.

"Look, Sam, thank you. Really. I know you can protect me. It just grates because, for my whole life, I've been looking after you, watching your back. And now I can't. Hell, I probably never will. As far as we know, no one else has ever seen an angel die and not died themselves, or at least had their eyes burned out. I'm never going to see again, Sam."

Sam shook his head, and resisted the urge to go and hug his brother again. "Dean, you don't know that for sure. The fact that we don't know of anyone who's watched an angel die and walked away with their eyes still in their head isn't a bad thing. It means it might be different for you." He sighed, and began to move his fingers through Hades' short hair when he whimpered. "Bobby's looking, you know Cas is looking. As soon as we get settled here, I'll start looking too. We will find something."

Dean shrugged. "Maybe we will, maybe we won't. Fate hasn't been kind to us, Sam. I'm not gonna hope for the best, because every time I have, it's come back to bite me in the ass." He gave Zeus a reassuring scratch when the Dalmatian whined anxiously. "Don't get me wrong, it'd be great if I did get my sight back. I'm just not so sure that it's gonna happen." He sighed, and then looked up, tilting his face to the sun. "Look, let's just forget about it, okay? What's gonna happen will happen. So, what are you going to do for a job, now that we're living a semi-normal life?"

Sam wasn't sure he liked Dean's mentality, but he understood it. Knowing that poking the subject further would just cause his brother to shut down, he allowed himself to be diverted. "Um, I dunno. I'll ask around, see if any of the local stores are hiring. Stacking shelves for a living is better than nothing, right?" Now that they were on a more comfortable topic Hades relaxed, stretching out beside Sam's chair and rolling into the sun. Sam smiled down at him. Maybe Dean was right; being a dog would be far less complicated.

Dean gave Zeus another pat, and then leaned back, grunting when Zeus decided he didn't want to lay on the hard patio and jumped up on Dean's stomach. Dean wrapped his arms around the dog to make sure he didn't fall off. "Stupid mutt," he muttered affectionately, laughing when Zeus huffed in his face. "And yeah, it would be, but you can do better than stacking shelves, Sam. Maybe something a bit more active?" Dean knew that if he were the one going for a job, he'd go for the nearest garage.

"Yeah, he definitely likes you better than me," Sam laughed, watching as Zeus tried to climb Dean. Hades lifted his head long enough to snort at his brother's antics and then laid back down. "But my one's more sensible than yours."

He thought about Dean's words, and understood. Dean would be great as a mechanic, he'd proved that more than once, but that sort of work just wasn't for Sam. The only reason the Impala had remained intact when Dean had been in Hell was because he'd fixed her up so well before his deal came due. "I'm not really the hands-on type, Dean," Sam answered eventually. "You're good with the active work, I'm more... passive, I guess?" He chuckled. "Maybe I'll get a job at the library."

Dean laughed, and ruffled Zeus's fur playfully. "Dog reflects the master," he chuckled. He considered Sam's words for a moment, and then said, "Yeah. You know, I could see you working at a library. Or a bookstore. Someplace where you could work with research and whatnot. You've always been good with that."

Sam raised an eyebrow, a surprised sound falling from his lips. "You've always made a joke out of my researching habits," he pointed out, grinning. "Couldn't you have said that when I was getting picked on in school for being a nerd?"

Dean snorted, grinning. "When you were in school, I was the 'cool' older brother," he pointed out. "And I was also an arrogant son of a bitch. But you've always been good with researching, with books and that sort of thing in general." He shifted, uncomfortable with praising Sam so much. "So... You know, don't go getting a big head or anything."

Sam laughed at that. "I'll try," he promised, stretching his legs out in front of him with a contented sigh. It was nice, having Dean compliment him. It wasn't like Dean constantly tore into him or anything but it didn't happen often; he was more inclined to call Sam a geek or a stuffy librarian when they were talking about books, but now he was actually suggesting Sam work in a library like it was a good thing. "Domestic life has changed you already, man," he observed, shaking his head. He found it kind of funny.

"Oh shut up, bitch," Dean muttered good-naturedly. Zeus finally found a comfortable spot on Dean's stomach, his head stretched out towards Dean's, his chin resting on Dean's collar. Dean stroked his back, lightly scratching through Zeus's fur. He could hear the wind moving through the branches and leaves of the oak tree, and he smiled. Maybe domestic life was getting to him, but he liked this break. He wasn't sure how he'd feel about living like this full-time, but he did like this break.

***

Two months went by, and in that time Sam managed to gank the creepy creature from the pet store—which turned out to be a wraith after all—get  a job at the local library, and fall even further in love with Dean. What he had yet to do was find a way to fix Dean's sight. Bobby hadn't worked it out yet either, and nor had Cas, but while he could tell that what little hope Dean had of ever seeing again was waning, Sam was more determined than ever. It meant that he actually spent very little time with his brother and their dogs these days, which was why, on his day off, Sam insisted that they all go to the park.

It was a nice day, if a little chilly as summer tried its best to resist turning into fall. Zeus was with Dean while Hades was with Sam, and both dogs were excited at the prospect of being able to stretch their legs. If Sam didn't know better, he'd say that Dean was, too.

During the past few months, Dean had been struggling with adjusting to his blindness, adjusting to the fact that he had to stay home most days, dependent on Sam for him going anywhere besides their tiny little suburb, and burying his growing feelings for Sam, sure that if Sam ever found out, he would leave. Or, even if he didn't leave, he'd become incredibly distant from Dean. And Dean really didn't know what he'd do if he didn't have Sam by his side through this. Of course, it didn't help that Sam still had nightmares, and—more often than not—they all ended up in the same bed together, the two Winchesters and their dogs.

When Sam had insisted on them going to the park on his day off, Dean had eagerly jumped on the opportunity to go somewhere that wasn't the house, the grocery store, or the pet store. He had Zeus in harness that day, and Sam had Hades on a leash. They'd stopped at a coffee stand and gotten coffee, and they were strolling down one of the less popular paths when Zeus and Hades apparently became evil masterminds and decided to run in different directions. Hades pulling something like that was slightly okay, since he wasn't on duty, but Zeus? No, Dean _knew_ there was something up when Zeus misbehaved while in harness. Hades ran in front of Dean, while Zeus ran in front of Sam, then Hades circled back around, yanking Dean forward onto Sam, toppling them both backwards. Dean's heart stopped as he felt himself falling.

Sam saw what was coming about a fraction of a second before it actually happened, but he was completely helpless to stop it. One moment the boys were going crazy and the next, he was toppling over. Sam just managed to grab Dean and turn them so that he landed with his brother on his chest before they hit the ground with a thump.

All the breath rushed out of Sam on a giddy laugh because, come on, that was hilarious—but the laughter tapered off when he realised how close Dean's face was to his. Sam found himself leaning up slightly, drawn like a magnet to Dean's lips, and before he knew what was happening, they were kissing.

Dean's heart, already pounding from the sudden fall, picked up even more speed for an entirely different reason. Sam was kissing him. Sam was _kissing_ him. Sam. Was kissing him. Holy shit.

Dean found himself leaning into the kiss, his hands braced on the grass beside Sam's head. Kissing Sam was everything he'd ever dreamed of and more. For a moment, he let himself forget that they were brothers, that they shouldn't be doing this(although almost everyone they'd met seemed to think they were a couple already), and just let himself enjoy the kiss.

Sam too indulged himself with the kiss, knowing he might never get another chance; knowing he might well end up dead after it was over. The fact that Dean was kissing back wasn't lost on him, but it was likely just an automatic reaction. Still, it was absolutely perfect, and when it finally ended Sam actually let out a soft whine of disappointment. And then he realised what he'd done.

"Oh my God, Dean!" he cried, horrified with himself. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, oh God..."

Dean was confused for a moment after the kiss ended, but then reality kicked him in the ass. "Shit!" he burst out, floundering around for a second before managing to disentangle himself from the leashes and his brother and get to his feet. He stood there, tense, and ran a hand over his face. "It's fine," he said, but he didn't trust himself to look(well, figuratively) in Sam's direction, especially not with the way Sam was acting. Kissing him had probably just been a knee-jerk reaction, Dean tried to convince himself. Sam hadn't gone to any bars or out on any dates in God knew how long, he'd spent almost all of the time when he wasn't at the library with Dean, so it was just a knee-jerk reaction.

"I should be apologizing," Dean said, forcing the words out through the sick feeling in his stomach. Oh God, what had he been thinking, letting Sam kiss him? What if Sam found him out? Dean didn't want to think about that. "I shouldn't have kissed you back."

Sam was thinking along the same lines as Dean as he pulled himself to his feet, and he said as much, ignoring the way his insides churned unpleasantly when he saw how shaken Dean was. "It's okay, man. Neither of us have been with anyone for a while; it was just... automatic. Don't worry about it, okay?" The dogs were still running around them, barking excitedly, and it took a sharp whistle from Sam to get them to stop. "What is wrong with you?" he demanded as he knelt to untangle the leash and harness. Mission accomplished, he patted Zeus on the rump. "Go back to Dean; he looks like he could use a hug."

Watching as the dog ran to Dean, Sam sighed. He wanted to be the one to offer comfort to Dean; he didn't want there to be comfort required at all. But he couldn't complain. Dean would kill him if he ever found out about Sam's feelings, or send him away or some of the other, equally painful things that still happened in Sam's nightmares, and he should be grateful that Dean wasn't freaking out too hard right now.

Hades' leash held tightly in his hand, he moved over to his brother and cautiously touched his arm. "I'm really sorry, Dean. I didn't mean to; I just..." 'couldn't help myself'. "Do you want to go home?"

Dean stood still for another moment, cursing his traitorous heart, which leapt at Sam's touch. "No," he said finally. "Let's finish the walk; the boys haven't had a chance to get out in a while." He took Zeus's harness in hand and started walking, his heart in his throat and tears pricking at his eyes. Great. Just fucking great. He'd kissed Sam. Well, Sam had started it, but he'd kissed Sam back; hadn't been able to stop himself.

The rest of the walk, he and Sam were cautious around each other in a way they hadn't been since Sam had first had the wall broken. When they got home, Dean immediately went to his room, grabbing his iPod and plugging it into the speakers, and starting up one of his audiobooks. He just wanted to forget the kiss had happened. It was one of the best things that had ever happened to him, but he didn't want it to come at the cost of losing Sam.

Sam wasn't an idiot; he knew why Dean had been off with him for the rest of the time they were out, and why he had disappeared into his room as soon as they got home. He was disgusted with himself, and probably Sam, for the kiss. As for Sam, he hated himself. If he'd just been able to keep it together and control his desire for his _brother_ , they wouldn't be in this mess.

He knew that it was up to him to fix it; he'd caused it, after all. After leaving Dean to his own devices for about an hour, he approached the door to his room and knocked lightly before opening it. Sam smiled when he realised Dean was listening to an audiobook. It figured that it would take him losing his sight to finally convince him to get an iPod. "Hey," he said softly, closing the door behind him but hovering awkwardly, unsure if Dean would want him to sit on the bed. "I brought you a sandwich. What are you listening to?"

Dean lowered the volume to a slightly more reasonable level and smiled sheepishly. "Watchers, by Dean Koontz. It's pretty good. And thanks," he added, taking the sandwich from Sam. The air wasn't charged, exactly; more like dusted with awkwardness. After all, what did you say to the brother you desired, loved, and had kissed?

Sam smiled. "Oh, I've not read that one. I'll have to check it out." He leaned against the closed door, feeling awkward but not quite prepared to leave. Dean may be allergic to any emotion that wasn't anger or lust, but they couldn't just ignore this. The tension between them had the potential to destroy their relationship even if Sam's feelings stayed secret. "Do we need to talk?"

Dean shrugged. “I don’t think we need to. Like you said, neither of us has been with anyone in a while, so it was just a knee-jerk reaction, caught up in the moment, all that.” He shrugged again, nibbling on the sandwich and trying to ignore the voice that was screaming at him to tell Sam how he really felt, that Sam had to feel the same, or else he never would have thought about kissing Dean. Dean couldn’t take the chance that the voice was wrong, though. He needed Sam too much.

Sam frowned. Something in Dean's voice was giving him pause. Was there something else to this that he was missing? Did he dare ask? Several moments passed between them in silence before he worked up the nerve to speak. "Is that... all it was?" he queried tentatively, careful to keep his tone free of anything but curiosity.

Dean continued to eat his sandwich, grateful for the distraction while he tried to pull himself together. His heart was pounding; had Sam seen something he wasn't aware of? "Yeah," he finally said nonchalantly. "That's all." He went back to eating his sandwich, turning the volume of the audiobook back up. Zeus came in, wriggling past Sam, and jumped up on the bed, laying down next to Dean and whining eagerly. Dean laughed and patted Zeus on the head. "No, boy, my sandwich," he told the Dalmatian.

Sam laughed, forcing down his disappointment. Of course Dean didn't feel the same way; of course Sam was an idiot for thinking he might. "I'll leave you boys alone," he mumbled, slipping through the door. "Enjoy your book, Dean."

Dean swallowed, hard, too wrapped up in his own guilt and anguish to register the odd tone to Sam's voice. Once he was sure Sam was gone, he flopped back on the bed, rubbing his hands over his face. "Oh, God," he whispered brokenly. "How the hell am I going to keep pretending?" Because he couldn't keep it up for long, he knew. Something would happen. Something always happened to them. Maybe Sam would have a nightmare, or he would, and Dean would take things too far, and then it would all be over. No more Sam, no more them. Dean couldn't handle that. "So suck it up, Winchester, and find a way to make it work," he ordered himself sternly. Zeus whined again, anxious this time, and crawled closer, laying his head on Dean's chest. Dean wrapped his arms around the dog, glad for the company as he fought to keep himself under control.

Hades came padding up to Sam as soon as he shut Dean's door, and he led him into the kitchen with a click of his tongue and a soft, "Let's get you some food, huh?" Sam sat down at the table while Hades ate, his head in his hands. What was he going to do? Dean had to suspect something now, and even if he didn't yet, it wouldn't take him long to work out that there was something very not right with Sam. Now that he knew what Dean tasted like, it would be infinitely harder to hide his feelings. And then what would happen? Would Dean punch him? Kick him out? The question had been plaguing him ever since they'd moved into the bungalow and he knew instinctively that his nightmares would be particularly bad tonight.

Something heavy landed in his lap and he took his hands away from his face to see Hades peering up at him. Sighing, Sam stroked his head. "Don't worry, buddy," he soothed, smiling sadly. "Your other daddy loves _you_."

Dean didn't leave his room but once the rest of the day, and that was only to grab another sandwich from the fridge. The rest of the time he stayed on his bed, Zeus by his side, half-listening to his books.

That night, Dean had the nightmares. He was in the bungalow, but it felt... fuller, somehow. He could see, but he didn't think anything of it. He was making the rounds, checking the protections, when he heard some sounds coming from the guest bedroom. He started walking, and then running when he heard Sam ask, "What are you doing here?!" He knew he'd be too late, but he ran anyway.

He was right; by the time Dean reached the bedroom, Sam was on the ceiling just like their mother and Jess, and Azazeal, the yellow-eyed demon, was standing over a crib, blood dripping from his hand to the mouth of a six-month old girl. "No," Dean whispered, choked. Azazeal turned to him, grinning.  
"You tell Sam how you feel, this will be your future," he warned. Then the room erupted in flames.

Dean woke up screaming Sam's name.

Sam was brought out of his own nightmare, panting and sweating, by Dean's cries. It took him a moment to realise that they weren't just a part of his dream and then he was out of bed and rushing down the hall to Dean's room. Hades was hot on his heels and Zeus met him at the door, both dogs whining in concern; Sam shushed them before hurrying to his brother's side.

Dean wasn't being ripped to shreds but he was clearly distressed, and Sam realised it had been a nightmare. Without thinking, he sat down on the bed and pulled Dean into his arms. "Hey, hey," he murmured, rubbing Dean's back in slow, soothing circles. "It was just a dream, you're okay."

Dean let Sam hold him for a second, and then he remembered the dream. He couldn't let himself get too close to Sam. He knew Azazeal was dead; Dean had killed the demon himself. But that didn't mean that _something_ wouldn't happen if he let Sam know he was in love with him. They were Winchesters; they didn't get "happily-ever-after"s. Dean shoved back against Sam's chest, pushing himself away. "I know," he said, taking several deep breaths, trying to calm himself. "I know. Just snuck up on me, that's all." His heart twisted painfully as he remembered the dream, and it took everything he had in him to keep from reaching out and running his hands over Sam to make sure he was really all right.

Sam was left reeling when Dean pushed him away. They weren't generally the touchy-feely types, but they'd always made an exception when one of them had a nightmare. This, to Sam, was evidence that Dean was more put out by the kiss from earlier than he'd let on. Was he disgusted by Sam's touch now? The thought made him feel vaguely sick, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to comfort his brother. "Do you want to talk about it?" he offered, keeping his distance where normally he would have just crawled into the bed. Sam hated himself for doing this to them.

Dean swallowed thickly, shaking his head. "No, I don't," he said, laying back down on the bed and turning away from Sam. "I'll be fine, I just need to go back to sleep." Dean felt the bed shift as Zeus jumped up on it and walked over the covers and Dean to nestle into the curve of Dean's stomach, shoving his head under Dean's arm. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that Sam hadn't turned on any lights so he wouldn't see the tears slowly starting to leak past Dean's eyelids, despite how hard he was trying to keep them in.

Sam closed his eyes and tried to breathe through the waves of hurt crashing over him. How was he supposed to help Dean when he couldn't even stand them being in the same room? At least he had Zeus to comfort him, Sam supposed; he petted the bed behind Dean until Hades jumped up as well, and then he got to his feet. "I'm sorry, Dean," he whispered, voice thick with unshed tears. "You know where I am if you need me."

That was almost enough to break Dean’s resolve, hearing Sam ready to cry. He hated it when Sam cried; hated it even more when he knew that _he_ was the reason. But, he reminded himself, he was doing this for Sam, to protect him. It was the only way he could protect Sam now that he couldn’t see, couldn’t fight. He felt both dogs moving closer to him, and once Sam had closed his bedroom door, Dean finally let the tears fall, although he didn’t make a sound.

The next morning, he woke up with a crick in his back from Hades and Zeus both shifting, making him contort in extremely odd ways. He grunted and shoved at them until they woke up and jumped off the bed, toenails clicking against the hardwood floor as they walked to the bedroom door, waiting for him to let them out. Dean did, and then cautiously made his way into the kitchen, jumping three feet in the air when the phone rang.  Taking a calming breath, he picked up. “Hello?” he asked, voice slightly blurry from sleep.

“Dean. Good, I need to talk to you,” Bobby said.

“Bobby?” Dean yawned. “What’s up?”

“Sam. And you. I know you’ve been beating yourself up because you can’t protect him—don’t you roll your non-seeing eyes at me, asshole—“ Dean winced; he had been about to roll his eyes—“I know you two better than anyone. Anyway, I’ve found this guy, not too far away, he’s willing to come stay at your place and teach you how to fight.”

“Bobby, I already know how to fight. Having someone else teach me isn’t going to help,” Dean protested, getting the coffee ready.

“This guy will. He’s blind, Dean.”

Dean froze when he heard that. “Come again?”

Sam didn't sleep for the rest of the night, and by the time morning rolled around his eyes were so tired that they were practically swollen shut. He was almost tempted to just stay in his room when he heard Dean get up, but then the phone rang and curiosity got the better of them. They'd found a system whereby Sam would touch Dean whenever he came into a room to let him know he was there, but Sam knew that it wouldn't be welcome now, so he settled for coughing loudly as he moved down the hall.

"Who is it?" he asked quietly when he entered the kitchen, petting the boys when they ran up to meet him and then shooing them so he could get to the dog food.

"Bobby," Dean mouthed at Sam, missing the usual touch that normally accompanied Sam's entrance into a room Dean was in. It was for the best, Dean reminded himself.

"I said, this man is blind as well. Studied with some monks, learned how to fight without using his eyes. I figured it couldn't hurt to tell him about you, and he said he'd be willing to teach you."

"Bobby, that's great and all, but are you sure?"

"Dean," Bobby's voice was resigned. "Son, I been doing a good bit of research, and... Well, unless we can convince God to give you back your sight, I don't think there's anything any of us can do to give you back your sight. I know you. You're itching to do something, to protect Sam. This will give you a way."

Dean stood still, his mind racing. He could protect Sam. He could tell Sam how he felt, wouldn't have to worry about the future so much... "When can he be here?" he asked, throttling down the tiny spark of hope. He didn't want to be disappointed.

"He's at my place right now. He'll need to stay at y'alls place, though. I can't be driving him back and forth every day, and Sam works."

"Yeah, no problem, Bobby. One of us can sleep on the couch—"

"Hold on," Bobby said. Dean waited. He could hear Bobby and some other guy talking. Finally Bobby came back. "He says he's fine with sleeping on the couch. With everything I've told him about you, he doesn't think he'll be staying long, anyway."

"Okay. Bobby, thanks. Will you be bringing him over?"

"Yeah. This afternoon." Dean and Bobby talked for another few minutes, hammering out the details, and then they hung up.

It was kind of difficult to follow Dean's side of the conversation without Bobby's too, so Sam busied himself with the dogs. Once they'd been fed and he had a mug of coffee he let them outside to play in the morning sunshine, and though he kept one ear listening to the sound of Dean's voice, the rest of his attention was focused on the boys. They looked so carefree. Sam was ridiculously jealous all of a sudden.

He went back into the kitchen when Dean ended the call, unable to suppress a yawn. "What was that about?" he asked curiously. "Did you say someone was coming to stay?"

Dean carefully slipped the phone back into its cradle, and then turned back around to face Sam. He could hear the tiredness in Sam’s voice, and a flash of guilt hit him. “Yeah. Bobby knows this guy, says he can teach me to fight,” Dean said, grabbing his mug of coffee again and taking another sip. He was going to learn to fight. He could protect Sam.

"Oh, that's exciting." Sam grinned, pleased about this development. He knew that Dean felt helpless and useless without his sight, but being taught to defend himself would hopefully give him his confidence back, not to mention some more of his independence. He wouldn't have to rely on Sam to protect him anymore, and while the thought made Sam a little sad, he had to be happy for his brother. "When's he getting here? Should I move my bedding onto the sofa?"

"Bobby said he'd sleep on the sofa, and he'll be here sometime this afternoon," Dean said, moving to the fridge and opening it. He felt around, and then said thoughtfully, "I feel like having scrambled eggs and bacon this morning." He shut the fridge when he heard Zeus and Hades barking outside, and he straightened, smiling as he did so.

If he could learn to fight without his sight, he may never be able to hunt again—but he was starting to think that maybe that wouldn't be so bad—but he could tell Sam how he felt, and if Sam didn't feel the same and left, then at least Dean wouldn't be totally on his own. Well, he'd have Zeus, but he could survive without Sam.

Sam set his coffee down and moved over to Dean's side, seizing his opportunity at a peace offering in the shape of breakfast with both hands. "I'll cook," he said, already getting pans out of cupboards. "Why don't you go spend some time with the boys?"

Dean smiled. “Sure. Let me know when breakfast’s ready, if the boys don’t drag me in.” He left with a laugh, walking through the back door. Once again grateful for the sonar ring allowing him to do more with their dogs than an ordinary blind man would be able to do, Dean grabbed one of the boys’ favorite toys: a tennis ball. Holding it in his hand, he gave a sharp whistle, getting their attention. “You want the ball?” he asked, grinning. When Zeus and Hades ran up to him, barking eagerly, he laughed. “Go get it!” He lobbed it into the back yard, moving so that he could have more room to throw the tennis ball.

***

Sam stuck around long enough to eat with Dean, but then he had to leave for work. He made Dean promise to call him after he met their new housemate to tell him what he was like, gave the boys a dog treat each, and made his way out to the car. Dean seemed better this morning—at least one of them had gotten some sleep last night—and Sam was glad. If the prospect of being able to fight again was putting him in such a good mood, Sam couldn't wait to see what he would be like once this guy Bobby was bringing had finished with him.

Dean puttered around the house like he usually did while Sam was gone. At a little after noon, he heard Hades bark, followed by a knock on the door. He grinned, moving to the door. “Hades, Zeus!” he shushed, nudging them out of the way with a foot as he opened the door. “Hey,” he said, smiling.

“Hey yourself, idjit,” Bobby said warmly, reaching out and pulling Dean into a hug. Dean grinned and hugged Bobby back.

“Before you go, I need to talk to you,” he murmured in Bobby’s ear, and waited for Bobby’s nod before releasing the older man. Then he turned to the other man standing on the doorstep. “Hello,” he said, smiling. Zeus growled lightly, and Dean frowned down at him. “Zeus, behave.” Zeus was a little more wary of strangers, but Hades—the quintessence of “friendly”—growled at the stranger, Dean’s guard came up. Obviously the man wasn’t dangerous, since Bobby vouched for him, but there was something supernatural about him. “Boys,” he said sharply, laying a hand on each of the Dalmatians’ collars.

"Ah, don't mind me, fellas," Aaron Zane laughed as he knelt down to pet the dogs, who quieted immediately. He was tall, tan, and had his thick dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. He was also wearing a black slacks and a red button down, but he couldn't vouch for that; he was blind. "How's it goin', Dean?" he asked when he'd straightened up, reaching for the other man's hand and shaking it heartily. "Well. Someone's been looking at things they're not supposed to." Grinning, he stepped past Dean and into the bungalow. "Nice place. Got a good feel to it. You ready to start?"

Okay. Dean was used to high-energy—he had two freaking Dalmatians, for crying out loud!—but this guy? He was the Energizer Bunny on speed. Dean glanced at Bobby. “He always like this?” he asked, following Aaron, Zeus, and Hades down the hall.

Bobby chuckled. “One thing about Aaron, he don’t let being blind stop him.”

“Obviously.” Dean led the way through the bungalow and out to the backyard. “Go run,” he told the dogs, then turned back to Aaron. “First things first: How did you go blind? I’m guessing you weren’t born with it.”

Aaron turned his milky eyes on Dean, the direction of his gaze surprisingly accurate for someone who so obviously couldn't see. "I looked at something I shouldn't have, too," he answered cryptically, but there was a smile in his voice. "Wasn't a fucking angel, though. What were you thinking?"

Dean snorted. “Fine. Be all mystical. And obviously, I wasn’t thinking.”

“Do you ever?” Bobby interjected, then laughed and dodged when Dean aimed a punch at him.

“Shuddup,” Dean growled good-naturedly. “Anyway, I musta hit some sweet spot when I ganked the angel, because he died a lot faster than I’ve ever seen an angel die before.” Zeus came bounding up, tennis ball in his mouth, and Dean reached down, holding out a hand for it. He wrinkled his nose at the slobber-covered ball, but pitched it across the yard anyway.

Aaron snorted. "That doesn't mean much; you've only seen an angel die the once," he pointed out, before cocking his head to the side as he listened to Dean playing with one of the dogs—Zeus. "Weird names for dogs. You're good with them. You have a kind heart, Dean Winchester. But a sad one."

Shaking his head to clear it, Aaron smiled wide once more. "So, Bobby said you wanted some help relearning to fight. Why don't we change into something more comfortable and we'll make a start?"

Dean laughed and rubbed Hades on the head when the other Dalmatian came bounding up to him. “Zeus and Hades,” he said. “They’re brothers. Technically they’re both mine—both Seeing Eye dogs—but really? Hades likes Sam better.” Dean laughed and swatted Hades lightly on the rump. “Go annoy your brother; Dad’s got stuff to do,” he told him.

As Dean walked back into his bungalow, Aaron and Bobby following, he glanced over his shoulder. “What do you mean, I’ve got a good-but-sad heart? How can you tell?” He _knew_ there was something odd about this man. “But yeah, I want to relearn to fight. I need to.”

Bobby watched Dean carefully. There was something odd going on in that boy’s mind, he could tell. He was tense about something. Looser now, but he had been very stressed, very recently. Wondering if it had anything to do with what Dean wanted to talk to him about, Bobby followed the two blind men.

Aaron chuckled, and if his eyes had any expression left in them, they would be sparkling. "I see things I shouldn't," he answered, before cracking up. "I'm a psychic. I see auras. That's how I lost my sight." Without another word, he wandered out of the house to fetch his bag from Bobby's truck.

When they reconvened in the back yard, he was wearing loose sweats and a tank top. Bobby was outside with them, but the dogs were in the house at Aaron's insistence. "You have something aiding your vision," he accused Dean abruptly, rolling his shoulders back in preparation for the sparring match to come.

Dean nodded. “Yeah. Sonar ring Bobby gave me, when I first went blind. Judging by your tone, though, I’m gonna have to lose it, aren’t I?” He chuckled, rolling his own shoulders and stretching. He hadn’t had a good fight in months, since the fight with the angel. Before he could lose his nerve, he twisted the ring off of his finger, sucking in a sharp breath as he lost the vague map he’d constantly had in his mind the past few months. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d come to depend on that. He heard Bobby walking towards him just as he heard a loud _thump_ from the direction of the bungalow.

Bobby looked over his shoulder. “Just Zeus trying to get to you,” he told Dean as he took the ring from Dean’s fist. “You’ll be fine. Aaron will rough you up, but he won’t hurt you overly much.”

Dean nodded, and then turned to face psychic, closing his eyes. Logically, it didn’t make a difference, but it helped put him in the mental mindframe.

"I make no such promises," Aaron warned as Bobby moved away with Dean's ring. "Okay. Let's see what you've already got, if anything. I want you to close your eyes—yes, you're blind, just do it—and try to use your other senses to predict my moves, and stop me, okay?" He gave Dean a few moments to prepare and then aimed a roundhouse kick at him, landing it firmly in the centre of his chest. Dean went down like a lead balloon.

Dean had barely had time to prepare himself for the kick, but he was thankful for their father’s training: He rolled with the impact, coming back up to his feet quickly, paused for a heartbeat to find Aaron’s feet, then just launched himself straight at Aaron’s midsection, catching him a little high, but managing to take the other blind man to the ground.

By the time Aaron called an end to their session, they were both sweaty and panting, not to mention grass stained. Aaron had to admit that he was impressed, although Dean had quite a way to go. He figured he'd need maybe a week to get back to the level he was at before he lost his sight, if they continued with the intensive training they'd done today.

They were sitting around the kitchen table, nursing beers, when Aaron's spider sense started to tingle. "You're boyfriend's home," he announced, but then frowned. The signals he was getting from both Dean and the newcomer—Sam—were fluctuating strangely, but at last the true nature of their relationship revealed itself to him, and Aaron's eyes widened. "Sorry. Your brother."

Sam let himself into the house and managed to avoid being bowled over by Hades and Zeus, laughing as he made his way into the kitchen. "Hey everyone," he greeted. "You must be Aaron."

"The one and only," Aaron beamed. "It's nice to meet you."

"You too, man." They shook hands and Sam moved over to the sink to get himself a glass of water. "Has he been working you hard, Dean?"

Dean—who had been taking a sip of beer—choked when Aaron called Sam his “boyfriend.” Which reminded him, he needed to talk to Bobby. He snorted at Sam though, pointing at his grass-stained shirt. “What do you think, Sam? I just felt like flinging myself on the ground repeatedly.” He smiled good-naturedly to let Sam know he was joking, though. After chatting for a few moments, he got up, taking Bobby with him to the backyard.

“Bobby,” he said, taking another sip of his beer. “I said I needed to talk to you.”

“Yeah,” Bobby said, but didn’t say anything else. He’d given Dean back the sonar ring after he and Aaron had finished training, and he could see Dean twisting it nervously.

“It’s about Sam.” Dean fiddled alternately with his ring and his beer, and then finally blurted out, “He kissed me. Yesterday. We were in the park, and the dogs freaked out on us, knocked us to the ground, and Sam turned us so that I landed on top of him, and then he kissed me, and IkissedhimbackandohgodBobbyI’mprettysurehehatesmenow—“

“Slow down, ya idjit!” Bobby said, laying a hand on Dean’s shoulder, his brow creased in worry. “Sam could never hate you.”

“But I kissed him back, Bobby! He only kissed me because he hasn’t had a hookup in forever, and just circumstances and whatnot… And then last night, Bobby, I had a dream.” He told Bobby about his dream, and then started pacing back and forth nervously.

Bobby was quiet for a moment. “So, you think that you can’t tell Sam how you feel because it’ll put him in danger? Boy, look at your lives—“

“Not just that, Bobby!” Dean interrupted, a bit desperately. “What if I tell him and he leaves? Or if he doesn’t, and things get all fucked up between us?”

“Listen to yourself! You sound stupider than your father ever did when he was worrying about you two when you were younger! Sam is your _brother_ , for Christ’s sake! He loves you, and he’s not going to leave you!”

A flash of pain flickered across Dean’s face. “But he doesn’t love me like that, Bobby. What the hell is he going to think of me, falling in love with my younger brother? He’d never trust me again.”

Sam watched Bobby and Dean go outside with some concern, but his attention was drawn to Aaron when he shook his head. "What?"

"Let them go," Aaron advised. "You can't help Dean with everything."

Sam sighed and sat down at the table in the seat Bobby had just vacated. "I know." Dean was probably out there telling Bobby all about yesterday, about how disgusted and unnerved he was.

"You should tell him how you feel," Aaron piped up conversationally, bringing Sam out of his thoughts with a start.

"What?" he said again.

"Tell him you're in love with him. What's the worst that could happen?"

Sam didn't even bother to ask how Aaron knew. "He could kill me?"

Aaron laughed. "Be realistic."

"Um, I don't know. He could disown me. Kick me out. Tell me I'm a sick fuck and he wants nothing more to do with me?"

"Trust the psychic, Sam. Take the risk."

Sam sighed. "No thanks. I think I know my brother better than you, no offence, and he would not take kindly to that information. He'd hate me."

Aaron just shook his head once more. "If that's what you want to believe."

"It's what I know."

"Has it occurred to you that maybe he's acting this way because he feels the same as you?" Bobby said finally.

Dean stared in Bobby's direction. It was unnerving, even with Dean's sunglasses on. "No," Dean admitted, then he sighed. "But it doesn't matter; Sam wouldn't fall in love with me."

"You two will be the death of me," Bobby growled. "I'm pretty damn sure he would, and that he has! Look, just tell him, Dean. You know Sam. He will not leave you, and he will not hold it against you _if_ he doesn't feel the same. My money's on the opposite, though."

Dean shook his head, draining his beer. "I can't take that risk, Bobby," he said with a quiet finality. "I can't take the risk of losing him." Dean turned and walked back into the bungalow, leaving Bobby behind.

"Idjits, the both of you," the older hunter muttered, disgruntled, as he followed Dean.

The tension between Dean and Bobby was obvious when they came back into the room, and Sam was immediately worried. "Is everything okay?" he asked, gaze flickering from one to the other.

"I'd imagine that they just had the same conversation as us," Aaron chipped in, and Sam kicked him under the table.

Dean snorted. "Somehow I doubt it," he said dryly.

Bobby didn't stay much longer, only finishing his drink before leaving. After he'd left—with a meaningful growl at Dean—Dean flopped down on the couch. "Jesus," he muttered, scrubbing his hands over his face. "I love Bobby, but he can grate after a while." Zeus jumped up on the couch and half-climbed into Dean's lap.

Sam sat down in the armchair next to the couch, Hades immediately moving to lie across his feet. Aaron was in the back yard meditating or something, and his words were still echoing in Sam's mind. He tried to ignore them. "What did you guys talk about?" he asked Dean, just knowing that Aaron would prove to be wrong about the nature of their conversation. "It sounded almost like you were fighting."

Dean tensed, and Zeus looked up in concern. He absently soothed the Dalmatian as he asked, "How much did you hear?" Oh shit... If Sam had heard...

Sam shrugged, nudging Hades with his foot until he rolled over to get his belly rubbed. "Not a lot. Just angry voices. Why?" His stomach gave an unpleasant lurch. "Were you arguing about me or something?"

Dean felt almost giddy with relief. "No, we were arguing about me," he replied. "Whether I should keep the ring off. I won," he said, holding the ring up and grinning.

Sam frowned, unconvinced. Why would Bobby not want Dean to wear his ring? "Good," he mumbled, his scepticism evident in his voice. "You kinda need it, so..."

"Yeah, but Bobby thought it might help with training with Aaron if I didn't have it. Said I couldn't always depend on it." God, Dean hated lying to Sammy, but what would Sam think if Dean told him that they had been arguing over whether or not Dean should tell Sam he was in love with him?

Sam shrugged. "Maybe not, but until you're better at getting around without it, you should still use it." He yawned and stood up; Hades immediately grumbled in protest at the lack of belly rubs and wandered over to Dean. "I'm gonna go to bed. You can have him again tonight, if you want," he offered, not wanting Dean to be alone if he had another nightmare.

Dean nodded. "Thanks," he said, smiling softly. "I'll probably turn in in a few minutes anyway. Night." Dean lay back against the couch, absently stroking Zeus and Hades as he thought over what Bobby had told him earlier.

This was getting ridiculous. Aaron had watched, or rather sensed, Sam and Dean tiptoe around each other all morning like clueless idiots, and once Sam had left for work, Dean had just gotten worse. He wasn't letting it affect his fighting, per se, but during their sparring matches on the lawn Aaron had been able to tell that Dean's head wasn't fully in the game. After three hours of intensive training which yielded them half the progress they'd made yesterday, Aaron had had enough.

"So are you going to tell Sam anytime soon?" he asked conversationally once they'd let the dogs back into the yard to play and were seated in the lawn chairs. Hades padded up to him briefly, but once it became apparent that he wasn't Sam, he whined and wandered off again. Aaron chuckled.

Dean leaned his head back. "Tell him what?" he asked. He had a pretty good idea what Aaron was asking, but he didn't really want to talk about it, not with a guy he'd only known two days. Zeus came over, a stick in his mouth, and Dean took it before pitching it across the yard.

Aaron rolled his sightless eyes. Popular to contrary belief, an aura didn't tell a psychic like him what kind of person someone was, but rather what they were feeling at any given time. Dean's aura shone so bright whenever Sam was near, and Sam's was the same; Aaron had been embarrassed and confused when he'd failed to identify the familial affection they felt for each other at first, but the longer he'd been in the same room as the two of them, the clearer it had become. These boys didn't love each other as brothers should.

"That you're in love with him, moron," he responded, his tone fondly exasperated. "I know you don't trust me, but you can't lie to a psychic, dude. I can tell. And I think he deserves to know."

Dean sighed. "No. He'd never trust me again, Aaron," he said, his tone resigned as he took another sip of beer and threw the stick fo Zeus again. "I need him. I can't take the chance of pushing him away, making him so uncomfortable he leaves."

"What makes you so sure he'd leave?" Aaron asked, arching an eyebrow that Dean couldn't see. "Maybe he feels the same way."

Dean was quiet for a moment. "Because he doesn't act like it," he said finally. "Never has. He's my brother, he knows me better than anyone else in the world; he wouldn't be stupid enough fall for me."

"You have a very low opinion of yourself, don't you?" was all Aaron said. Of course, he knew that Dean was completely wrong, but he couldn't tell him that. Ultimately, it wouldn't mean anywhere near as much if they got together because Aaron spoon fed him inside information. Dean needed to work out how Sam felt for himself, or at least be willing to trust in Sam's love for him as a brother, take the risk and confess his own feelings.

"I've got a realistic view of myself," Dean corrected Aaron. Why did everyone assume Sam would just blithely accept the fact that Dean was a sick bastard who was in love with his brother?

"Realistic in your opinion," Aaron argued. "He's your brother, Dean. He loves you, no matter what."

"Jesus, Aaron! What kind of sick bastard falls in love with his own _brother_?" Dean exploded, shoving himself to his feet. As he started pacing, he almost tripped over Zeus and Hades, who were dogging his footsteps. "Sam would hate me! At the least, he'd never be able to trust me around him, and things would change between us. I don't want that; I can't deal with that."

"You can't be certain that you'd have to," Aaron persisted stubbornly, refusing to let it drop. "You think behaving like he's got the plague isn't going to drive him away just as fast? He doesn't understand, Dean. He thinks you hate him, not the other way around."

Dean whipped around to stare sightlessly at Aaron. "What? No, I don't hate him! I couldn't. Never." His voice trailed off as guilt assailed him. Sam thought that Dean hated him?

Aaron sighed. "One thing about being blind for most of your life, Dean, is that you develop damn good hearing," he said seriously. "He kissed you the other day, didn't he? And I'm betting you haven't let him anywhere near you since. Now, you know that you don't hate him, I know that you don't hate him—but how do you think that looks to Sam?" If it wasn't so dire, the situation might be funny. Aaron knew that brothers were supposed to be stubborn bastards, but these two really took the cake.

Dean made himself stop and think for a moment. "That would look pretty bad," he admitted. "But what the hell am I supposed to do about it?"

Aaron made an exasperated noise. Had he been talking to himself this whole time? "Work it out, Dean," he muttered, before standing up and making his way back inside.

Dean stayed standing until Aaron had shut the patio door behind him. Then he slowly sank to the lawn chair. Zeus and Hades came up and both laid their heads in his lap. Dean scratched both of them behind the ears. Tell Sam how he felt, and risk losing everything, or keep on like this and definitely lose everything? Sighing to himself, Dean realized there was no choice at all.

***

Sam came home from the library shortly after that and found Aaron in the living room, who turned to smile at him. "Hey Sam, good day?"

"Hey. It was okay. Where is everyone?" Normally the dogs were the first to notice his presence and greet him, but the house was eerily quiet.

"I think Dean's still outside with the boys," Aaron supplied helpfully, and Sam nodded.

"Thanks. I think I'll just go say hi." He moved through the house to the kitchen, and as soon as he opened the patio doors the dogs ran up to him, barking happily. "Hey boys," Sam cooed, making sure to pet them both thoroughly before nudging them aside so that he could sit next to Dean. "You okay?" he asked with some concern. The look on Dean's face was not a happy one.

Dean sighed, shrugging. "Just worried, I guess," he said, struggling to keep his heart from leaping out of his chest. He was going to do it. He was gonna tell Sam.

Both of Sam's eyebrows shot up into his hair. Dean never admitted to being worried; it was almost as bad as admitting to being scared. "Worried about what?" he asked softly, only just resisting the urge to reach out and touch his brother.

"You. And me." Dean bit his lip, searching words, his throat suddenly dry. How the hell was he supposed to say this? "I'm sorry for the way I've been acting," he blurted.

Sam's stomach dropped. Oh shit. Did Dean know? Was he about to tell him to leave? Trying to squash down the panic rising in his chest, he told himself that there was no use working himself up until he knew what Dean was talking about. It didn't work.

"You don't have to apologise," he answered, and miraculously his voice remained steady. "We... We kissed. That would freak anyone out, I guess."

Dean shook his head, growling in frustration and shoving himself to his feet, beginning to pace. "I don't mean about that. I mean how I've been pushing you away. I just... jesus, I don't even know how to..." Dean pushed a hand through his hair, trying to gather the guts to just freaking _say_ it, and failing.

"You mean you haven't been pushing me away because of that?" Sam blinked, confused. "Just say it, Dean. Whatever it is, I can handle it." Or not, but Dean didn't need to know that.

Dean paced for another few turns, and then he finally stopped, half facing away from Sam. "I love you," he said, his voice hushed. "Not just like a brother, but... but more." He swallowed hard. "I'm a sick bastard, I know. I'm sorry, Sam."

Sam jerked so hard he almost fell off his chair. Dean hadn't just said that; he'd been hearing things. There was no way that Dean loved him; it just wasn't possible. But his body language said that he'd just revealed something he was either incredibly embarrassed about or ashamed of, and Sam just couldn't process this information. He let out a shaky breath. "What did you just say to me?"

Dean swallowed, feeling slightly sick. "I said, 'I love you,'" he repeated, turning so he was facing Sam. "It's sick, and I shouldn't, and I know you don't feel the same, and I'm sorry. I'll understand if you want to leave," he finished, his voice low, his eyes downcast. Even though he couldn't see anything, he didn't want to have to look Sam in the face as he admitted that; he couldn't.

Slowly, so slowly, Sam got to his feet to stand in front of Dean, and swayed toward him like a moth drawn to a flame. Oh God, this was really happening. It was true. Dean loved him.

Heart beating wildly in his chest, Sam ran his hands up Dean's arms and over his shoulders until he was framing Dean's face between his palms. "Dean," he breathed, his breath ghosting over his brother's lips. "You don't know anything." And then Sam kissed him.

When Dean had heard Sam's approaching footsteps, he'd frozen, alert for the sounds of an incoming fist. Sam's gentle hands on his arms had knocked him off-balance, and Sam's lips on his was almost enough to knock him back on his ass. He stayed frozen for another heartbeat, and then he gave a low, almost pained groan and brought his own arms up to wrap around Sam's neck, kissing him back hungrily.

When he finally pulled back, he thought he could see stars. "Sammy?" he whispered, still afraid to hope that it could be true, that Sam could love him.

Sam didn't let Dean go far when their kiss broke, but rather kept him close enough to rest their foreheads together. He closed his eyes, a small smile gracing his lips. "I do feel the same," he murmured, dipping in for another soft kiss. "I love you, Dean."

Dean's breathing stopped for a second. "Really?" Even in his wildest dreams, Dean had never dared to hope Sam could feel the same. For the first time in months, Dean wanted to rant and scream against his blindness so he could actually see Sam when he said he loved him.

Instead, Dean leaned back in and kissed Sam again, tugging him in close. "Oh God, you have no clue how much I wanted to do that," he murmured against Sam's lips.

"Slight inkling, maybe," Sam mumbled back, pressing himself against Dean. He couldn't keep from smiling into the kiss that followed because this was everything he'd wanted for so long, and it was goddamn perfect. Dean felt incredible as he wrapped his arms around him and licked into his mouth, familiar and yet different all at once. Sam never wanted to let go.

Dean chuckled and gently pushed Sam back. "How long?" he asked, nudging aside Zeus and Hades with his calf. He kept his arms wrapped around Sam, feeling like this was the only thing currently keeping his feet on the ground. Dean let his hands roam up and over Sam's face, carefully and gently re-learning his brother's features.

Sam made a soft sound of protest when he was pushed away but, he supposed, they should talk about this. And he'd totally forgotten about the dogs, who were trying to push between them, wanting to get in on the action. He couldn't keep himself from turning to kiss Dean's palm as his fingers explored his face though, and he murmured his answer into the skin.

"I don't know; a long time. Maybe before I even noticed." He huffed a soft laugh. "I was so scared of you finding out. Bobby and Aaron both said I should tell you, but I though you'd never speak to me again. What about you?"

Dean's lips quirked into a smile as he felt Sam's lips against his palm. "A while," he admitted. "Bobby and Aaron both told me to tell you, but... Well, I guess I didn't for the same reason as you: I thought you wouldn't be able to trust me, and that things would be weird between us." Dean continued letting his hands explore Sam's face, aware of the boys trying to push between them.

Sam couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. "I think things are a little weird," he teased. "But in a good way, right?" Tightening his arms around Dean's waist, he brought him in for another soft, slow kiss. "Thank you for being braver than me."

Dean laughed. "Yeah, a good way," he agreed. "Now shut up and kiss me, bitch." Not waiting for Sam to comply, Dean tugged him in for another searing kiss. When they pulled apart, Dean laughed breathlessly and said, "Now if only Aaron weren't here..."

Sam groaned. Trust Dean to get him all worked up and then remind him exactly why they couldn't do a thing about it. "Can't we just kick him out?" he asked as he began to trail his lips along Dean's jaw. "You know enough about fighting blind now to get by, right?" From somewhere in the vicinity of their knees, Hades gave a soft bark, which was echoed by Zeus, and inspiration struck. "We could ask him to walk the boys."

Dean snickered. "We could, but he's going to know what we're up to anyway," he pointed out. He began to gently kiss his way up Sam's neck and jaw. "I'm all for it, though. But we're not kicking him out completely, not yet. I still need some training." Dean let his hands run down Sam's arms and then back up his chest. "Deal?" he asked, his mouth hovering over Sam's.

"Deal," Sam agreed, before taking the offered kiss and making it deep, dirty. His hands were splayed over the small of Dean's back now, but they were moving down toward the swell of his ass. God, Sam wanted Dean so bad. "You wanna go get rid of him?"

Dean laughed. "Sure," he said, giving Sam one last, quick kiss before stepping out of his arms, calling the boys to him with a sharp whistle. Leading the two Dalmatians into the house, he went to where Aaron was sitting in the living room. "Hey, Aaron," he said. "Will you take the boys for a walk? Sam and I need to talk some things over, and the boys could use the exercise."

Aaron smirked. "You really think I'm that much of an idiot, Dean? You two will not be doing any talking." he accused, laughing, but he stood up and called the dogs to him anyway. He laid a hand briefly on Dean's arm. "It's about time, man. You both deserve this." Mere moments later, he had and the dogs had disappeared.

Dean waited until he was sure Aaron was gone—taking the boys with him—before going back out to the patio. "Now," he purred, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he stalked back over to Sam. "Where were we?"

Sam was momentarily struck by the fact that Dean's eyes still sparkled, even though he couldn't see out of them. God, he was just so beautiful. Reaching out to catch his fingers in Dean's belt loops, Sam pulled him in the rest of the way until they were flush against each other. They kissed. "I think," Sam responded only when they were both breathless again, smirking against Dean's lips, "we were up to the part where I say, 'My room or yours?'"

"Mine," Dean growled. "Closer." He didn't waste any more time with words, instead pulling Sam through the bungalow to his room, locking the door behind them before turning Sam around and shoving him back onto the bed. Dean followed him, climbing onto the bed so he was straddling Sam, kissing him hungrily.

Sam moaned and returned the kiss eagerly, drawing Dean's tongue into his mouth so that he could suck on it. His hands fell to Dean's waist, gripping his hips so that they could rock together. With anybody else this would be happening too soon, but they were brothers and they knew each other in every way besides this one. Now that they had the chance to complete their knowledge, nothing was going to stop them.

Dean let Sam lead the kiss for another moment, but then he pulled back, growling. "Clothes. Off. Now," he demanded, his fingers working Sam's jeans open. He hated doing this blind, but he couldn't bring himself to care overly much at the moment, not with Sam laid out on the bed beneath him.

Sam obliged, yanking his shirt over his head and kicking his shoes off the end of the bed before starting to tug at Dean's shirt. Despite the fact that Dean was blind, he still felt self conscious, exposing himself like this—but then Dean's hands were in his pants and all coherent thought flew from Sam's mind.

Dean quickly shed his own clothes; he'd never had a problem with modesty, and besides, he had Sam here, in his bed, the way he'd wanted for a while now. Kissing Sam again, his roughly shoved Sam's pants and boxers off, letting his hand drift slowly over Sam's stomach to gently tease its way up Sam's cock.

Sam let out a strangled sound when Dean finally touched his cock, but it wasn't nearly enough and he bucked his hips into Dean's hand, searching for more. "God, Dean," he moaned, pawing at his brother, finding a nipple and thumbing it. "Don't _tease_. If you're gonna do it, do it right."

"I am doing it right," Dean countered, smirking. "I can't see you, Sam, so I'm learning how you feel." He ran his hand down Sam's length again, and then wrapped his fist around Sam's cock, jacking it slowly.

"You're still a tease," Sam growled through gritted teeth, but he settled down, forcing himself to keep still under Dean's ministrations. There would be plenty of time for him to do his own exploring later, and he trusted Dean to get him where he needed to be—even if he took his own sweet time about it.

Dean smiled and leaned down to kiss Sam as he varied his stroking, stroking fast and hard one moment, slow and gentle the next. He slowly started kissing his way down Sam's jaw and neck, pausing to nip a small bite at just below Sam's ear before working his way down Sam's chest and stomach, then teasingly running his tongue up the underside of Sam's cock before taking him fully in his mouth.

"Holy shit!" Sam jerked so hard he almost knocked Dean off the bed, and then collapsed back against the pillows with a broken moan. His whole body was on fire, and he couldn't quite keep his hips from thrusting up a little into the wet heat of Dean's mouth. "Oh God," he whimpered, reaching down to thread his fingers through Dean's short hair. "Please..."

Dean chuckled. He reached up with both hands and pinned Sam's hips to the bed while his mouth continued working Sam's cock. After a few minutes, he pulled off with a lewd pop. "God, I've been waiting so long to do this," he murmured.

Sam absolutely did not whine in protest at the loss of Dean's mouth, but managed to prop himself up on one shaky arm to look down at him. He brought the hand that was still in Dean's hair round to his face, running a thumb over his swollen bottom lip. "What else have you been waiting to do?" he asked breathlessly, somewhat belying the challenge in his tone.

Dean let a wicked grin steal over his lips before he took Sam's thumb into his mouth, sucking and nipping gently. Releasing it, Dean crawled back up Sam's body slowly, seductively. "I've been waiting to feel you inside me," he murmured, pressing a kiss to Sam's jugular, his teeth scraping lightly over the thin skin there.

Sam cried out and arched his neck to give Dean better access. "You want... you want me to..." Of all the things he'd been expecting, this was at the bottom of the list. It wasn't even on the list. Sam had been willing to let Dean fuck him, had even anticipated enjoying it, but this was another thing entirely. The idea was ridiculously hot. "Have you ever done that before?"

Dean chuckled. "Sammy, Sammy," he breathed, his mouth moving slowly up Sam's neck and over his jaw. "You know I have; I used to tell you all about my adventures..." He kissed Sam again, slowly, deeply. "Yes, I want you to. And I have something to confess." Dean's eyelids had drifted shut while he was exploring Sam's body. Physically it didn't make a difference, but psychologically it lent a more intimate air to the situation. He moved so his mouth was hovering next to Sam's ear. "Every time I did, I imagined it was you. You inside me, filling me, stretching me..."

Sam moaned, his hips bucking against Dean because how was he supposed to control himself when Dean was saying things like that to him? "I thought you were lying," he admitted, voice strained. "I thought you were just messing with me. Jesus, Dean... I want that so much. Wanna be in you."

Dean chuckled, kissing Sam’s ear, his tongue dipping lightly into the curve at the top before moving back to Sam’s mouth. “Why would I lie about that?” he murmured. “I don’t lie about things like that.” Dean let his hands roam up Sam’s chest. “Night stand, top drawer. There’s a bottle of lube,” he breathed against Sam’s lips.

Sam shuddered and reached for the nightstand, pulling the drawer open and groping around until he found what he was looking for. "Dean Winchester: always prepared," he huffed out on a breathy little laugh as he squeezed some lube out into his hand. "You should know, I've never done this with a guy..." The words came out as an embarrassed mumble, but his hand dropped behind and beneath Dean with all the confidence of a pro. He'd learned how to fake bravado from the best, after all. "You might have to help me out a little," he breathed, even as a slick finger began to circle Dean's entrance.

Dean chuckled slightly breathlessly. "You're doing fine," he assured Sam, his back arching, thrusting his ass back against Sam's hand. "Trust me, you're doing fine." He leaned down and kissed Sam again, hissing a little in pleasure when Sam finally pushed his finger inside.

Sam fought the urge to just pull out and stop everything right then, because that was a good hiss, it had to be. He pressed his finger into Dean a little further, curious, and kissed back. After a little while, when Dean made no more sounds that could be interpreted as distressed, Sam withdrew to add more lube and then returned with two fingers. Once he'd worked them inside, he crooked them, searching. He'd read about this spot, he knew it existed—now if he could just find it...

"Oh, Jesus!" Dean gasped when Sam's fingers rubbed against his prostate. His back arched and he leaned into Sam's touch wantonly. "Oh, God, do that again," he demanded. He was so lost in pleasure he didn't even stop to think about the burns covering his chest and arms and that came slightly up his neck, burns that were yet another physical reminder of the dying angel's Grace.

Sam grinned and did as he was asked, rubbing the little cluster of nerve endings almost relentlessly as he fucked Dean with his fingers. Now that he was the one in control, he could take the time to truly appreciate Dean's body—and holy shit, were those _burns_? Sam knew instinctively that they were yet another parting gift from the angel who had stolen Dean's sight, and he wanted to demand to know why Dean hadn't told him about them, but not right now. Not in the middle of this. Keeping his fingers moving within Dean, Sam reached out with his other hand to trace the worst of the burns, on Dean's collarbone. The touch was gentle with reverence, acknowledging the damage but not judging, never judging. Even scarred as he was, Dean was still beautiful.

Dean could barely feel Sam's gentle touch on the deadened skin, and he felt a flash of guilt for hiding them from Sam. The guilt was quickly swept away by the continuing waves of pleasure, and finally he gasped out, "God, Sam, stop. If you keep doing that, I'm gonna come, and I don't want to yet; wanna come with you inside me."

Sam immediately ceased the movement of his hands, running the one on Dean's chest up to the back of his neck to pull him down into a deep kiss. He was desperate to be inside his brother, but he would never hurt him. "Are you ready?" he gasped against Dean's lips. "Or do you need more?"

"I'm not some fragile flower, Sam," Dean growled, nipping Sam's lower lip sullenly. "I can take it." Dean ran his own hand down between their bodies, taking Sam's cock in hand once more, stroking lightly.

If Sam hadn't been so busy moaning, he would have rolled his eyes. "Fine," he gritted out, pulling his fingers from Dean's ass and wiping them on the bedspread. "How do you want to do this? Do you have —ah, shit! —condoms?"

"Yeah, if you want to," Dean said, leaning down and kissing Sam again. "But we're both clean, so do we really need them?" he added, nibbling on Sam's ear.

Sam jerked slightly beneath Dean. He'd always used protection—always. Why did the idea of not using it when he had sex with the big brother who had always hammered home the 'no glove, no love' rule sound so appealing? "No," he answered at last, a shiver running through him. "Want to take you bare."

"Good," Dean purred happily. He kissed Sam again, and shifted so Sam's cock was lined up with his entrance, and slowly began to sink down onto him, groaning in pleasure.

Sam moaned long and low, his hands falling to Dean's hips once more. "Oh my God," he panted, forcing himself to stay still, to let Dean set the pace. "You feel so good..."

"God, Sammy, this won't be as good if you don't participate," Dean moaned, slowly rising back up and coming back down, setting the pace slightly fast. Finally, after months of being aware he was waiting—and probably years of subconscious wanting—Dean finally had Sam in every way.

"You want it to be over before it begins?" Sam growled, but he rose to the challenge, using his hold on Dean to flip them. Bracing himself above Dean, Sam drove his hips forward, groaning as he thrust into the tight heat of the body beneath him. Jesus Christ, this was Dean. Never in his wildest dreams had he ever thought he would actually get to have this, and yet here he was, with his big brother spread out beneath him, and there was no way he'd let Dean accuse him of not participating again.

Dean chuckled wickedly. "You think this is the only time we're gonna do this?" he demanded, wrapping his arms around Sam, arching his back and thrusting back against Sam.

"Better not be," Sam moaned, capturing Dean's lips in a rough kiss. Trust Dean to be a mouthy bastard even when he had a cock up his ass. Sam shifted the angle until he found the right one, the one that had Dean shuddering deliciously, and picked up his pace.

Dean moaned in pleasure, his voice climbing in pitch. "Oh, God, Sam, yes, there, harder," he panted, his hips bucking wildly. "Oh God, Sam, I'm so close..." he moaned, reaching between them to stroke himself, right on the edge of coming.

As if Sam was ever going to deny such a request. He began to pound into Dean, hitting his prostate on every thrust and moaning along with him. Sam was chasing both of their orgasms now, so close to losing it, but Dean had to get there first.

"Oh, God, oh, Sam, God, please," Dean was vaguely aware that he was begging—though he wasn't sure what for—but he really couldn't bring himself to care. He stroked himself faster, in time with Sam's thrusts, and finally, _finally_ , his threw his head back as he came between their bodies, a harsh cry of " _Sammy!_ " escaping his lips.

Sam was never particularly vocal during sex, but the way Dean's muscles clenched around him like a vice as he came was enough to have him groaning, "Oh Christ, Dean, _yes_ ," as he followed him over the edge. He fucked Dean through their orgasms as best he could, rhythm faltering as he pulsed deep within his brother—good God, his _brother_ , and that thought alone was enough to have his hips stuttering as another wave of pleasure crashed over him. When at last it was over, save for the violent aftershocks running through his body, Sam stilled his movements and rested his forehead against Dean's shoulder, breathing hard.

Dean slowly ran his fingers up and down Sam's spine, fingers tracing the scars and bumps left over from a life of hunting. He couldn't find his voice for several moments, still boneless and drifting in the waves of pleasure from one of the best orgasms of his life. Eventually, though, he found his voice. "Well," he said, laughing lightly. "That was definitely one of the best times of my life."

Sam practically purred as Dean traced light patterns into his skin, the touch surprisingly tender and not at all unwelcome. He turned his head to press a kiss to the side of Dean's neck, smiling. "Even though I didn't participate?" he teased, too blissed out to put any weight behind the words.

Dean chuckled lightly, pinching Sam's back. "You did participate at the end," he granted, smirking. While his right hand continued tracing patterns onto Sam's skin, his left came up to work its fingers through Sam's hair, stroking it softly. "Best damn lay I've ever had."

Sam melted with a breathy little moan as soon as Dean got a hand in his hair. It was a gesture reminiscent of their childhood, but now it was also kind of intimate and utterly wonderful. It was almost enough to quell the sense of pride that rose within him at Dean's words. Almost. "Definitely not a one-time thing, then?"

Dean rolled his eyes, whuffing out a breath of laughter. "Sam. You really think I'd make _you_ into a one night stand?" he asked, lightly smacking the back of Sam's head before continuing to stroke his hair. The act had always soothed him as well as Sam when they were younger, and now it just made the whole situation seem that much more intimate.

"You never know," Sam grumbled, mock-indignant. It was true, he didn't know, but he had a good idea. Dean had said that he loved him; as long as he didn't develop a sudden allergy to his emotions like he so often had in the past, Sam was pretty sure that meant he wanted to make a go of it. The thought warmed Sam right down to his toes.

Dean chuckled and leaned down to kiss the top of Sam's head. He was quiet for a moment, then said, "Aaron will probably be coming back any time now." He stretched, wincing as the scar of a particularly nasty burn pulled.

Sam groaned. He didn't want to move, but he knew Dean was right. "The moment he leaves," he began, pushing himself up just enough to kiss Dean, soft and sweet, before rolling off him as carefully as he could, "we're spending the whole day in bed." Once he was beside Dean, Sam propped himself up on one elbow and ran a hand down the centre of Dean's chest, caressing the uneven skin. "And don't think we're not talking about these, okay?"

Just then, there was the distinctive sound of the front door opening and then the frantic clicking of nails on hardwood as two excited dogs came running into the house. "If anyone's naked, cover yourselves!" came Aaron's amused voice. "The boys do not need to see that!"

Sam glanced over his shoulder toward the door. "Just not right now," he added, and then slipped out of bed to find their clothes. He handed Dean's to him without a word, but if Sam dressed slowly, wanting to linger in this place where all of his dreams had come true—well, sue him. Dean always had said he was a girl.

Dean took his clothes from Sam, pulling them on hastily. "Yeah, figured you'd want to talk about those," he mumbled under his breath. After he was dressed—as usual, he was done before Sam—Dean walked over to Sam and pulled him in for another kiss. "I promise that we'll talk about them," he said, smiling softly. Then he opened the door and slipped out, laughing as Zeus and Hades started trying to jump on him excitedly. "Okay, okay, yeesh! You were only gone for like an hour!" he laughed, walking out to the living room and sitting on the couch before saying, "Okay, now you can show me your love," with a laugh followed by a grunt as both dogs jumped up on the couch.

Aaron stood back with a smile, listening to Dean play with the dogs. He didn't even need to look at Dean's aura to know what had happened between him and Sam; it was all right there in his voice, happy and relaxed like Aaron had never heard it before. Laughing to himself, he approached Dean and put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm guessing it went well, the 'talk' you guys needed to have?"

Dean snickered, rubbing Zeus's head and Hades' tummy at the same time. "We didn't exactly do a lot of talking," he said, grinning. "But I'm pretty sure we understand each other now."

Aaron gave an amused snort. "Yeah, I bet."

Sam walked into the room then, and Aaron shifted from Dean's side so that he could take his place. The dogs didn't even seem to notice him, blissed out by Dean's attentions. "Hey guys," Sam greeted, perching on the arm of the sofa and resting a hand on the back of Dean's neck. "What are we talking about?"

"How you finally made an honest man out of your big brother," Aaron teased.

"Oh. Umm." Sam felt his face flush scarlet, and it didn't even matter that no one in the room could see it; his embarrassment was palpable.

Dean laughed. "You're such a girl, Sam," he said fondly, reaching over and giving Sam's hand a squeeze. Hades finally realized Sam was there, and rolled toward him, presenting his belly for more rubs.

"Well so are you, asshole," Sam bitched half-heartedly, not even trying to argue. If being this deliriously happy meant he was a girl, then he was a girl. He gave Dean's hand a squeeze in return before releasing him to indulge Hades. This was actually really nice, sitting with Dean while they petted their dogs. Their own little family. And Aaron.

"You two are so cute," the psychic in question piped up. He was watching their auras mingle and glow even brighter than usual, and if it had been obvious that they were in love before, it was clear as day now that they were meant to be together. Sam paused in rubbing Hades' belly to flip him off, and blind or not Aaron was no idiot. He threw a cushion at him and laughed when he heard Sam's muffled 'hey!'

Dean laughed. He could feel how... _right_ this all was—him and Sam and their dogs—and he figured maybe he and Sam were related after all, because it was making him happier than anything else he'd ever done or experienced.

It was another week before Aaron left, a week of intensive training for Dean and intensive research for Sam. The brothers had slipped into the routine so easily that they'd barely found time for each other, although Sam had officially moved into Dean's room. He still got a little thrill when he thought of it as 'their bedroom'.

Currently they were standing in front of the bungalow, Zeus and Hades on either side of them, and Aaron was hugging the hell out of Dean. "I've got nothing else to teach you," is what he'd announced over dinner the night before, a sense of pride in his voice. "One of my best students." He turned to Sam then, and hugged him just as hard.

"Thanks for everything," Sam mumbled into Aaron's neck. There would never be enough words to express how grateful he was for all that the psychic had done for Dean, and for them.

"Yeah yeah," Aaron dismissed, breaking the hug and backing away toward the car that was waiting for him. "You two take care of each other, you hear?"

"We will," Dean promised, clapping Aaron on the shoulder. "Now git out of here," he added with a laugh. Bobby had shown up in his truck to take Aaron back to wherever he'd come from, and after Aaron's bags were stowed in his truck, Bobby turned to Sam and Dean.

"I've got a job for you two. Simple salt and burn over in the next town. Ghost has been annoying the hell out of the family. Nothing dangerous, just knocking on doors, sweeping potted plants off tables, that sort of thing. You two up for it?" He looked between the two brothers.

Dean thought about it for a second. "I'm game. You?" he asked, turning to Sam.

"Uh, sure," Sam agreed, careful to keep his features expressionless. Neither of them had taken a hunt in months, and Sam was still a little uncertain about letting Dean put himself in danger. Not that Sam didn't know Dean was capable of handling himself, perhaps more so now than he ever was. Sam was just... protective.

Dean heard the note of uncertainty in Sam's voice, and laid a reassuring hand on Sam's shoulder. "It's just a salt and burn," he assured his brother. "Nothing we can't handle."

Sam nodded and covered Dean's hand with his own, trying to let his brother's words soothe him. "Yeah," he murmured, swallowing hard. "Yeah, okay. We'll do it." He smiled and leaned into Dean's side, watching carefully for Bobby's reaction.

Bobby studied the two brothers for a moment, then a grin burst across his face as understanding dawned. "It's about damn time, you idjits!" he said, reaching out to clap Sam on the shoulder. "You two have been dancing around the issue for too long."

Sam grinned right back, an arm going around Dean. "Yeah, tell me about it," he laughed. They'd both known they had Bobby's approval, but seeing that this revelation actually pleased him made it even better. "But we got there in the end. And we're happy."

Dean grinned and leaned against Sam. "Yeah, we're both idiots, but now we're happy idiots." The four of them chatted for another few minutes, and then Bobby and Aaron left.

Calling the dogs back into the house with a whistle, Dean turned to Sam with a leer. "Now, what was it you said we were gonna do after Aaron left?

Sam fisted his hands in Dean's shirt and dragged him closer, unheeding of the boys as they ran around their legs. "Bed," he growled, capturing Dean's lips in a rough kiss. "Now."

Dean chuckled. "Sounds like a plan," he said, grinning wickedly.

***

The next day, Dean was walking the boys while Sam used his day off to research the salt-and-burn, mostly to locate the cemetery where the body would most likely be located. Dean had Zeus in harness, Hades on a leash, as he walked them down the road. There were several other houses on their lane, but Sam and Dean, living on the end of the road, hadn't really had a lot of chances to meet any of their neighbors.

Dean heard running footsteps behind him and tensed, but didn't get too on the offensive since both Zeus and Hades were relaxed. The footsteps slowed as they approached him, and Dean slowed as well.

"Hey!" A woman's voice came from his left, and Dean turned to face it.

"Hey, yourself," he said, smiling easily.

"I'm Linsay, you must be one of the men who moved into the bungalow, right?" She sounded like she had a huge grin pasted on her face.

"I'm Dean, yeah," he said, shifting Hades's leash to one hand and holding the free hand out. After she shook it, Dean took Hades's leash back in his hand. "This is Zeus and Hades," he added.

"Seeing Eye Dogs, hm?" Linsay asked, still sounding like she was smiling. "You know, I've got a party planned for a few nights from now, for everyone on the lane. You should come."

Dean heard the flirting tone in her voice, and decided to nip this in the bud. "Mind if I bring my partner, Sam?" he asked. "I'll also have to bring both boys, too," he added as an afterthought.

"Sure." Linsay's voice faltered, and Dean knew her smile had as well. "Didn't know you had a boyfriend. I thought he was your brother."

_He's both,_ Dean thought. Out loud, he said, "No, Sam's my boyfriend."

Sam sighed as he got off the phone with the father of the family being haunted. The guy was a God-fearing man who believed in ghosts, but that didn't make this part of the job any less tedious. He grinned when he heard the front door open, glad of the reprieve, and stood up to move into the hall.

The boys ran up to him as soon as Dean let them go and he knelt to give them both a treat. "The hunt seems simple enough," he announced over the dogs' excited barking. "Low-level poltergeist. The original owner of the house died there some fifty years ago and the current owners just knocked a wall through downstairs to make a bigger room. She's probably pissed that they're screwing with her home. She was buried in the local cemetery—nice and easy."

Sam got to his feet once the boys backed off enough to let him and pulled Dean into a kiss. "Hi," he murmured, grinning against Dean's lips. "How was your walk?"

Dean smiled and kissed Sam again. "Good," he said. "Lady down the road, name of Linsay, invited us to this party she's having in a few days. Well, she invited me. She was flirting with me. Sounded absolutely shocked when I told her we were together. She thought we were brothers." He kissed Sam once more before heading into the kitchen to feed the boys.

"Ugh," Sam grunted, wrinkling his nose. "Us, brothers? What a disgusting misconception. I hate her already." He laughed and followed Dean into the kitchen, seating himself at the table. "So are we going? Can I grope you in front of her so she knows you're definitely off-limits?"

Dean laughed. "I'm okay with groping," he said, pouring food for the boys and then getting some soup out of the fridge and shoving it in the microwave. Things had been tough the first few weeks, but he and Sam had worked out a system fairly quickly, so Dean always knew where things were. "So, you said that the poltergeist is definitely the previous owner?"

Sam shrugged. "I think so. She's the only person who died there, according to the records, and the obit said she was a bit of a mischief-maker. Makes sense, right?"

Dean took his soup from the microwave and sat down across from Sam. "Yeah, makes sense," he agreed. "So, what do you say to a road trip, boys?" he asked, reaching down and rubbing Zeus's head.

Sam laughed when the boys barked and Zeus licked Dean's hand. "Well I guess we'd better get ready."

Dean grinned. "Time to put Baby back to work," he said happily.

They loaded everything they'd need—salt, gasoline, shovels, and extra salt shells—into the Impala's truck, and then Dean whistled for the boys, loading them into back of the car. He had insisted on him and Sam wearing their suits and taking their work clothes. "C'mon, Sammy," he'd wheedled, pulling his most impressive puppy face to date, "let's interrogate them, make sure no other ghost could be after the place." Sam had finally relented, muttering about what the people would think of a blind agent, but Dean had just grinned.

Climbing into the passenger seat, Dean buckled up, feeling more excited than he had in a while. When he wasn't hunting, he hadn't realized how much he'd missed it. Now that he was going back, it was all he could do to keep himself from bouncing in his seat like an exuberant child. "C'mon, Sammy, hurry up!" he called. From the backseat, Zeus whoofed in agreement, both dogs panting happily.

They interrogated the family, per Dean's request, asking all the regular questions about old enemies and long-buried secrets. All they got in return was confusion as to why the FBI would send a blind man with two dogs to talk to them about the strange goings-on in their house. "I can't believe they didn't retire you," the wife had said to Dean at one point. "Standards must be dropping if they're employing disabled people now." Sam had simply said that Dean wasn't _disabled_ , raising his voice slightly to he heard over the sound of Zeus' growls, and she had apologised.

It turned out that the poltergeist was, indeed, the house's original owner. They located the grave quickly enough and waited until nightfall to start digging; Dean stood back with the dogs while Sam got to work breaking his back. It had been a long time since he'd done this and even though he kept up with a rigorous workout routine at home, Sam was sweating half way into it. Still, he found that he missed being on the job. Not the driving aimlessly around the country part, perhaps—not now he knew the stability of a home and a nine to five—but the sense of purpose, the helping people.  
"Alright," he huffed once he'd pried open the coffin lid and climbed back out of the grave. "You wanna do the honours?"

Dean grinned. He was once again thankful for the ring: He could pour the salt and gasoline on the body and drop the match in with fairly decent accuracy. When Dean felt the rush of heat from the flames as the body went up in smoke, a grin curved his lips. "I didn't realize how much I missed this," he said, leaning against Sam. Unknowingly, he echoed Sam's earlier thoughts. "Not the driving, the helping people." Zeus and Hades were sniffing around the graveyard, and Dean called them back as he and Sam began cleaning up and stowing their stuff in the trunk of the Impala.

After a quick stop back at the house to make sure that the poltergeist activity had indeed ceased, they started back home. The drive was relatively quiet; the boys fell asleep to the sound of REO Speedwagon playing softly through the speakers, and Sam and Dean were both exhausted enough to not feel like chatting. About halfway through the journey, Sam turned to his brother and broke the silence. "We should start taking local jobs whenever they come up," he suggested casually. "Just to keep us on our toes." Dean's answering smile was more than worth it.

Three days later, they were back at home and ready to meet the neighbours. Sam was kind of nervous, but he was also looking forward to the chance to socialise. It would do them good to have some friends who weren't hunters or supernatural beings. They walked the short distance to Lynsay's place with the dogs fair dragging them down the street, clearly anticipating the party a lot more than them, and Sam took a moment to nudge Dean before he knocked on the door. "Don't forget that you can't see anything," he muttered, pointedly looping his arm through his brother's. "And if this chick touches you in the wrong way, we're leaving."

Dean snickered. "No, you can kick her ass, protecting your poor, defenseless boyfriend," he corrected. "And I'm not a complete idiot, Sam; I know that I'll need to pretend to be really blind." He raised his hand and knocked, leaning against Sam's side.

Linsay opened the door with a smile. "Hi," she said brightly, her eyes lingering regretfully on Sam and Dean's intertwined arms. "Come on in!"

Panting excitedly, Zeus and Hades led the way—Zeus was in harness tonight, so he stayed by Dean, but Hades was nearly dragging Sam down the hallway—until Sam clucked his tongue, bringing Hades to heel and reminding both dogs that they were to _behave_.

Sam didn't miss the look Linsay gave them, but he forced down his territorial streak and offered the girl a smile. "Hey, I'm Sam. Dean's partner," he introduced himself, waving a little with the hand that was holding Hades' leash. He wasn't sure how Linsay would feel about him setting the dog loose in her home and he definitely wasn't letting go of Dean to shake her hand. "Thank you for inviting us. This is a nice place you've got here."

Linsay studied Sam. He looked like a nice enough man, and the dogs seemed to like him, so she smiled. "Thank you. And you're welcome," she said, leading them into the living room. "You can let them off the leash, if you want to. All the breakable stuff's up high." Coming into the living room, she gestured around the room. "Dylan, Kelly, Lucas, Ben, Maria, and Tom," she said, pointing to each one in turn, "this is Sam and Dean Winchester."

"Same last name?" Tom asked, raising an eyebrow. "Linsay told us you weren't married."

Dean answered him. "We aren't married. But it's easier to just give one name."

"Who's name is it?" Lucas asked.

"Mine," Dean said, grinning easily. "I'm the older."

The party went well. They had a good time and made friends that hopefully they would keep; the boys were well behaved and so, surprisingly enough, was Linsay. By the time they got home they were both more than a little drunk. They just about managed to put some food out for the dogs before falling into bed together and passing out before they could do anything else. Apparently they needed to work their alcohol tolerance up again.

They took two more jobs over the next few months, both salt and burns, but eventually Bobby called with something bigger. A werewolf that was wreaking havoc two towns over. Naturally, they were the closest hunters, and they accepted without hesitation. It would be a challenge, but one they welcomed.

The morning they were due to leave, Sam rolled over to kiss Dean awake and found his brother shivering, the bed soaked in sweat. "Dean?" he mumbled, sitting up and closing his hand over Dean's shoulder. "Hey, how long have you been like this? Why didn't you wake me?"

"Jesus, Sammy," Dean moaned, curling in on himself. "I was fine last night, just—Shit." Dean leapt from the bed and ran for the bathroom, barely making it in time to hurl the remnants of his dinner the night before into the toilet. "Jesus," he muttered when he was finally done. His innards felt like they were being shaken like a James Bond martini, and the rest of his body felt like he'd stepped into a room crammed with ghosts. He was shivering, and he could just barely heard the concerned whine that Zeus let out from the other side of the bedroom door over the sound of his teeth chattering.

Sam was right there as soon as Dean had finished puking, sitting behind him on the floor and pressing a cool, damp cloth to his forehead. This was actually kind of scary; Dean never got sick. "I've got you, you're alright," Sam soothed, kissing his temple and rubbing his back in slow circles. "Are you done? We should get you back to bed."

"I'll be fine, Jesus," Dean muttered, waving Sam off. He got shakily to his feet. "You need to go gank that werewolf," he said, stumbling into the bedroom and sinking down onto the bed. He heard Sam open the door and let the boys in, and then felt the bed sink under Zeus's weight. Zeus carefully nudged his head under Dean's arm, whining softly. "Hey, boy," Dean said, smiling softly and moving gingerly. "I'm fine; just caught a little bug is all," he murmured, stroking Zeus's coat.

Sam hovered uncertainly beside the bed, looking down at Dean. "Maybe I should just call Bobby and see if there's another hunter who can handle it," he suggested, shushing Hades when he nudged the back of his hand with a wet nose. "I don't want to leave you like this."

Dean snorted. "Sam, just leave me with some crackers, ginger ale, and my iPod, and I'll more likely than not sleep all day. Just go kill the damned lycan; you know Bobby said there was no one else in the state that could, since he's busy helping Sheriff Mills." He carefully scooted back across the bed and under the covers, smiling when Zeus followed and curled up against Dean's side instead of jumping on his stomach as the Dalmatian usually did.

Sam wanted to argue, but he knew it was pointless. A sick Dean was even more stubborn than a well Dean. Sighing in defeat, he left the room to get Dean his crackers and ginger ale and began to get ready for the day.

Before he left, Sam made sure that both Dean and the dogs had everything they needed, and then made a quick phone call to Linsay asking her to check in every once in a while. When he was ready, he smoothed Dean's hair back from his face and kissed his forehead. "I'll be back as quick as I can," he promised. "I love you."

"Love you too, bitch," Dean smirked, settling back against the pillows, closing his eyes. He was damned tired, even if he wouldn't admit it. He was asleep before the Impala started up.

Linsay checked in a couple of times, but every time she came over, Dean was sleeping, the Dalmatians in the room with him, Zeus on the bed pressed against Dean's side, and Hades laying at the foot of the bed. Every time she cracked the door, both dogs would stare at her intently. If she didn't know any better, she'd think they were daring her to come any closer.

The hunt was a bad one. Just like with Madison, Sam pegged the wrong guy as the werewolf and by the time he worked it out and got two silver bullets into the creature, a whole family save for one member had been slaughtered. Shaking with adrenalin and feeling sick with guilt, Sam grabbed what he needed to grab and made a run for it.

It was just after two in the morning when he got home, and he was only vaguely surprised to find Dean in the kitchen when he elbowed the door open as carefully as he could. Dean often got the munchies late at night when he was sick. Hades lifted his head from the floor and made to bark, but a sharp click of Sam's tongue had the sound dying in his throat. Satisfied, Sam made his way further into the kitchen to stand before his brother, hoping that his light footsteps would make his presence known because his hands were too busy to touch him right now.

"Um... Dean?" he began in a hushed voice that did nothing to hide how nervous he was. "We may have a problem."

Right on cue, the baby girl in Sam's arms opened her mouth and began to scream.

Dean jumped and dropped the plate—luckily it was just a paper plate with some more crackers on it—on the floor when the baby screamed. He whirled around, eyes wide. "Zeus!" he said sharply when he heard the dog leap to his paws. "What the hell, Sam?" he demanded, the instinct he'd long thought dead(ever since Sam had grown too old for holding and comforting like a baby) coming back to life as he automatically moved forward and took the baby—girl, it felt and sounded like—from Sam's arms. He started gently rocking and bouncing her, murmuring soothing nonsense sounds until her screams subsided into hiccups and small whimpers. "Do you have a bottle and formula?" he asked, turning to Sam. "While you're getting that, maybe you can explain to me why you show up back here with a baby."

Sam was taken aback when Dean automatically took control of the situation and set about quieting the baby, but he quickly realised that he shouldn't be. Dad had been an absent father their whole lives—how had Sam survived, if Dean hadn't been taking care of him from day one? Of course he would know what to do with a baby.

"Uh, yeah?" Sam stammered awkwardly, setting down the bag that had been hanging from the crook of his arm on the counter and beginning to search through it. "I picked up some stuff on the way back but I didn't really know what to get, y'know. Um." He squinted at the instructions on how to make up baby formula and set about following them while he explained the situation to Dean.

"I messed up, man. Thought the werewolf was someone else and by the time I worked it out, her whole family was dead. It ripped them to shreds, Dean; she was the only one left. So I took her. I couldn't leave her to get put into the system because of a stupid mistake I made." Sam had been babbling, and here his voice broke. Oh God, that little girl's family was dead, all because of him.

Dean took the bottle from Sam, carefully figured out where the girl's mouth was, and deftly inserted the end of the bottle, keeping an ear out for any potential trouble as he frowned. "There's nothing you can do about that now, Sam. You got her out of there, and you're right: You couldn't just leave her to go into the system. All you—all _we_ —can do now is take care of her," he told Sam, making sure that he was staring as straight at Sam as he could. After a few moments of silence, Dean prompted gently, "Tell me what she looks like."

Sam found himself drawn to Dean like a magnet, both fascinated and awed by the sight of him with the baby, so that when Dean made his request he was standing right behind him. Careful not to disturb what was taking place in Dean's arms, Sam wrapped his own around his brother's middle and hooked his chin over his shoulder to peer down into that tiny face. "She's beautiful, Dean," he mumured, the affection in his voice making it clear that he'd already fallen in love with the little girl. "So small. She's got these pudgy cheeks and the sweetest button nose. When she looks at you, her eyes are huge and so blue. Bluer than Cas'. And she looks bald, but if you really look you can see that she has little wisps of blonde hair." He paused then, considering. "I don't even know her name."

Dean didn't feel emasculated at all. Really. Especially not when Sam came up behind him like that... Dean tilted his head to the side slightly, thinking. He bit his lower lip as the only sound in the room after Sam had finished speaking was that of the baby suckling the bottle. Finally, he said, "We could name her. If you want." He nearly held his breath, waiting to see what Sam would think. It was crazy, it really was, but this... Well, call him a girl, but Dean was starting to think that maybe he wanted more of the life their neighbors thought they had. Where Dean was the stay-at-home worker, and Sam went out to his job.

"Really?" Sam whispered, trying not to sound too hopeful. He turned his head to press his nose to Dean's cheek, nuzzling a little. He couldn't help his behaviour; he'd wanted a family for so long and now that he could see this baby in his brother's arms, he wanted one with Dean. The feeling brought out his girly side tenfold. "If we name her... she's ours. Do you want her to be ours?" Sam swallowed hard. "I think I do."

Dean rolled his eyes, chuckling softly. The baby finished with her bottle, and Dean carefully set it down, moving away from Sam so he could pace with the baby over his shoulder and burp her. "Sam, I wouldn't have suggested it if I didn't want it, want _her_ ," he pointed out dryly. "I will admit this scares the hell out of me, thinking about raising a baby, but I want to. It scares me more how much I want it than the fact that I want it."

"This is a big decision..." Sam stalled, although he'd never been more sure of anything in his life—except for his love for Dean, and Dean's love in return. "But I want it too," he said after a beat, grinning wide. "I want to raise this little girl with you. So let's name her. After mom, maybe?"

Dean smiled. He patted the girl's back softly, grabbing a dishcloth and slipping it under her just in time for her to burp, just in case she spit up anything. "Yeah. How about..." He thought for a moment, then grinned. "What about Mary Ellen? After Mom and Ellen."

"Mary Ellen," Sam repeated, trying it out. It sounded good. "Mary Ellen Winchester. I like it." He grinned, stepping toward Dean once more and stroking the back of the baby's head. "We have a daughter," he murmured, voice awed, and then he kissed Dean, slow and sweet. "But you'd better give her to me. If you get her sick, I'll kill you."

Dean almost laughed aloud, but he could feel the tell-tale signs of Em falling asleep, and he passed her over. "All right then. We'll have to go in town tomorrow, get some _real_ baby supplies." Suddenly it sank in that he and Sam had a real family now: him, Sam, the dogs, and Mary Ellen. "We've got a family," he said, sitting down abruptly. "Holy shit. We've got a family."

***

Taking in Mary Ellen turned out to be one of the best decisions they'd ever made. Taking care of her brought them even closer as they learnt the ropes of parenthood together—or, rather, Dean taught Sam the ropes. A trip to the doctor with some fake adoption papers determined that the baby was three months old, and that kind of hurt, to think that she'd lost everything so young—but, as Dean reminded Sam later that night, she'd also gained everything, too. After their childhood, no one was going to love their little girl and strive to keep her safe and happy as much as they would. Sam knew it was true, and so he settled into family life with relative ease and peace of mind. The only thing he didn't like was the night time feedings.

Sam sat up with a groan and passed a hand over his eyes before glancing at the digital clock on the nightstand. Three o'clock in the morning. Just like always. "I'll get her," he mumbled, groping for Dean's wrist when he felt him starting to move. "Go back to sleep." When Dean settled again, Sam got out of bed, pulled on some sweats and wandered down the hall into his old bedroom, which he had converted into a nursery. Maybe once he'd fed her, he would bring Mary Ellen back into their bed for cuddles. She maybe wasn't old enough for that yet but she slept best in the middle of one of their chests and years of being a hunter meant that they never rolled over and squashed her.

As soon as Sam left the room to deal with his daughter, Cas popped into existence at the foot of the bed. He'd been pretty much absent since Dean had lost his sight, only checking in once every few months to say that he still had nothing, but that he was looking; that there was still hope. This time, he came to the Winchesters with a heavy heart. "Dean," he said without preamble, his voice loud in the silent room. "Wake up. I need to talk to you."

Dean sat up quickly. "Cas?" he asked, scooting back to lean against the headboard. "What's up?" There was something... grim, maybe even almost sad, in the angel's voice, and Dean somehow knew what the angel had come to tell him.

Castiel had his hands clenched into fists at his sides, letting his frustration show because Dean couldn't see it. He managed to keep his voice level, but it was a struggle. "I apologise for disturbing you at this hour, and while you're in this... state of undress. I wanted to speak to you without Sam, as I imagine you would like some time for this to sink in before you have to speak to him," he explained, and yes, he was stalling for time, something he had never done before. "This is... difficult, but I cannot ignore the facts. I have exhausted every option, in every corner of the earth and Heaven. Your sight cannot be returned, Dean. I'm very sorry."

Dean stiffened. He was silent for several moments. He'd never really believed he'd get his sight back, so this wasn't a total shock, but part of him had still hoped. But now... Now, there was no hope. He was blind, and would stay blind for the rest of his life. He'd never see Zeus, Hades, Mary Ellen, or their neighbors. He wouldn't see Sam grow old, wouldn't see himself grow old. There was so much he would miss. With a feeling like a punch to the gut, Dean wondered how Sam would take the news.

Sam. Would he still want to stick around, knowing there was nothing to cure Dean? Dean would be nothing but a burden, a hindrance, to Sam now, with no hope of ever being really useful.

After several long, agonizing moments, Dean took a deep breath and finally said, "Thank you, Cas," his voice quiet.

Castiel stepped up beside Dean and laid a hand on his arm, squeezing briefly—and then he was gone.

Sam entered the room a few moments later. He'd heard voices as he approached the door with Mary Ellen, and deciding it must be something private—and serious—he had taken the baby back to the nursery, settling her back into her crib before returning to their bedroom. When he poked his head around the door and found Dean alone, his heart began to pound in his chest. Something was wrong here, very wrong.

"Hey," he said softly with some trepidation, slipping back into bed and kissing Dean's temple. "Did I hear Cas just now? What did he want?"

_To rock both our worlds,_ Dean thought. Out loud, he replied with, "I was right. He says there's no way to get my sight back. He has checked every way possible." He sat in the same position, wondering why he was so calm about this. Yes, he'd known it was likely that there would be no cure, no fixing his sight, but shouldn't he be at least a little upset or pissed about it?

Like Dean, Sam couldn't speak for a moment while he processed the information. It felt like his world was tilting dangerously, threatening to let him slip right off and into nothingness. Dean was blind. Period. He would never see their baby, or their home, or their friends. Sam would never see those sparkling green eyes focused on him ever again. A part of him wanted to deny it, to protest that no, absolutely not, this couldn't be true; Cas had to be wrong; there _had_ to be a way—but in his heart of hearts he knew. He had always known.

"Oh God," he whispered, not even trying to hold back the tears that were suddenly stinging his eyes. "Dean."

"Don't," Dean snapped, suddenly fierce. "Don't you dare start crying, Sam, or I swear to God I will kick your ass. I knew this was gonna happen." He took a few deep breaths. "I'm going back to sleep," he said firmly. "Nothing has changed, except that now we know it's permanent." Apparently Sam had left the door open when he'd come back in, because Zeus and Hades came in, their footsteps quiet as they jumped onto the bed, settling on the foot of the bed, lending silent support. Sliding back down and pulling the covers over himself, Dean willed himself to go back to sleep.

Sam flinched at Dean's tone, hissing in a sharp breath. He knew that Dean had to be mad, upset, _something_ , but why was he pushing Sam away? Didn't Sam have a right to be upset too, on Dean's behalf? He was going to spend the rest of his life in darkness and there wasn't a damn thing Sam could do to stop it. He'd failed yet again, just like he had when he hadn't been able to keep Dean from going to Hell, or get him out afterwards, and now his brother had to suffer.

Blinking furiously, Sam scooted to the edge of the bed and settled down, curling in on himself as much as was possible given his height. He was grateful for the dogs' presence, and hoped that they could provide Dean with some comfort. He clearly didn't want Sam anywhere near him right now.

Dean heard and felt Sam shift away from him, and he sighed, a twinge of guilt surfacing in his gut. He didn't want Sam to think this was his fault, like the big moose was bound to. Rolling over, Dean threw an arm over Sam's waist, pulling his back against Dean's chest. "Don't blame yourself," he murmured. "I don't blame you, Sam. You weren't the only one looking for a solution. If anyone should be blamed, it's me. I _knew_ better than to look on an angel's dying Grace, but I was stupid enough to do it anyway." He tucked his nose in the crook of Sam's neck, nuzzling softly.

Sam covered Dean's arm with his own and pressed back into him, shuddering. "It's not your fault either," he mumbled thickly, twining their fingers together. "It's just something that happened. Fate, maybe."

"Maybe," Dean murmured, pressing a kiss against Sam's skin. "But you gotta promise me you won't blame yourself for not being able to find a cure."

Sam closed his eyes against the onslaught of emotion. Dean had just found out that he would never see again and he was worrying about Sam? "I won't," Sam returned, sighing softly at the feel of Dean's lips on his skin. "Promise."

"Good," Dean said, cuddling a bit closer. "Now go to sleep; I'll still be here in the morning."

The next morning Dean woke up still pressed against Sam's back. Stretching slightly, he grinned when he heard Em's "morning song." Kissing Sam's temple quickly, Dean got out of the bed, heading down the hallway with Zeus walking next to him to go get Em from her crib. Bouncing her slightly as he walked to the kitchen for her morning bottle, Dean thought that it sucked that he wouldn't be able to see her as she grew up. Throwing some food into the bowls for the dogs, Dean got her bottle from the fridge.

_Nothing's really changed,_ he reflected. _Not really. I'm still blind, now I just know I always will be._ In a way, that was good; he was almost used to being blind. But it was worse, almost. Not for himself, for Sam. Sam had worked so hard to try to find a cure, but even he couldn't just pull a cure from thin air. Pressing a soft kiss to Em's forehead, he smiled.

Sam wandered into the kitchen then, and smiled when he saw Dean's smile. His brother was so brave, taking this all in stride. Sam was still struggling with it but only because he felt awful for not being able to fix it. He approached the two loves of his life, stepping around the dogs, and kissed each of their cheeks. "Morning," he murmured, hand resting on Dean's lower back. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Dean said, smiling and turning to Sam for a kiss. "And so's—oh wait." Dean wrinkled his nose as the smell hit him. "You can handle this," he said, passing Em over to Sam with a laugh.

"Jerk," Sam accused, but he took Mary Ellen into his arms and he was laughing as he left the room. Once she'd been changed and dressed for the day, Sam returned her to Dean so that he could start making breakfast. "We should call Bobby," he suggested as he unlocked the back door to let the dogs out; they were slobbering all over the floor at the smell of bacon sizzling in a pan. "Let him know to stop looking." He was quite proud of himself when his voice wavered only slightly.

"Yeah," Dean said, not commenting on the note in Sam’s voice. "I'll do it." He walked over to the house phone and dialed Bobby's number, waiting for the older hunter to pick up.

"Hey, Bobby," Dean greeted when Bobby picked up.

"Dean, what's up?" Bobby said. "How's your little girl doing?" The old hunter had fallen in love with Mary Ellen—like everyone else— the first time he'd held her.

"Which one?" Dean said, laughing, but he quickly sobered. "Em's doing fine. Sam on the other hand... Well, Cas was here last night."

"Cas?" Bobby straightened. This couldn't be good. "News?"

"Yeah. He had news." Dean rubbed a hand over his face. "He said there's no cure. He searched everywhere."

"Oh, Dean," Bobby started. Dean cut him off though.

"Bobby, don't you start. I already had to go through this with Sam. I expected this. I won't lie and say I'm totally fine, but I'm doing better than you and Sam seem to think," Dean snapped. "I've been blind for several months, I'm basically used to it."

"Dean," Bobby said. "I know. But we're your family, idjit, we're allowed to worry about you."

Sam hovered uncertainly while Dean talked to Bobby, their baby girl cooing in his arms. He turned his attention to her, tickling under her chin and laughing with her when she squealed in delight, but he looked up when he heard Dean's tone change. In three strides he was at Dean's side, radiating irritation. "Don't talk to Bobby like that," he scolded, soft enough that he wouldn't upset Mary Ellen. "I know it's your sight and I know you're dealing with it, but this doesn't affect just you."

"Jesus, what is it with you two?" Dean muttered.

"Come again?" Bobby asked in confusion.

"Sorry, Bobby, was talking to Sam. Look, I really will be fine. So, anyway, since Cas... You don't have to keep looking any more." He and Bobby chatted for a few moments, and then Dean hung up. Turning back to Sam, Dean rubbed his hand over his face again.

Sam didn't really need his bitchface anymore, but he'd spent the last few months perfecting the bitchvoice and it was finally paying off. "You're frustrated, and that's okay, but you have to stop attacking us. We're not reacting like we are because we think you're about to have a breakdown. You're strong, Dean; if any of us can handle this then it's you. But we're allowed to worry about you," he insisted, unknowingly echoing Bobby's words, "and we're allowed to be sad. So don't jump down our throats because we feel something when we get bad news."

Dean stuck his tongue out at Sam. "I know. Just don't pity me, okay? Because 'worry' sounds one hell of a lot like 'pity' to me. Either way, I'll take care of myself. We've got Em to worry about."

Sam rolled his eyes. "I'm not pitying you, Dean. There is a difference." He sighed, touching Dean's arm. "You don't have to deal with anything by yourself. I can juggle a baby and you. There's not really that much difference, honestly."

Dean smacked Sam in the back of the head. "Whatever," he said, smiling. "C'mon, let's get back to our semi-apple-pie life."

Sam grinned and nudged Dean with his shoulder, laughing when Mary Ellen gurgled happily. Maybe it wasn't perfect, but if a semi-apple-pie life was all they were going to get, Sam would take it in a heartbeat.

The next two months passed with only minor bumps. Dean and Sam still got snippy with each other, but that usually led to lots of make-up sex. Mary Ellen was fast approaching her six-month birthday, and Dean knew Sam worried about it just as much as he did. Logically, he knew Azazael, the yellow-eyed demon, was dead, but emotionally, he still worried about it.

That night, he didn't go to sleep, instead staying in Em's room, both dogs sitting beside him, one on either side of his chair. His hand rested on his bottle of holy water.

Sam finished going over the devil's traps etched too finely to be noticed into the floor in front of every entrance to the bungalow, and then checked their salt lines and laid down a few ancient sigils that Bobby had dug up for them. Only once he was satisfied that their home was completely supernatural-proof did he make his way to the nursery. "Hey," he murmured from the doorway, smiling over at Dean and the boys, standing guard over their daughter. His voice shook slightly, but he couldn't be blamed. They were both worried, scared that something would go wrong tonight.

He picked his way carefully across the room and sat down on the floor between Dean's legs, one hand on his gun and the other on Dean's knee. "We're ready," Sam whispered, thumb idly stroking the denim beneath his fingers. On the other side of the room, Mary Ellen whimpered in her sleep and then settled again. "Nothing is going to hurt our baby—not tonight, not ever."

"Never," Dean agreed softly, one hand moving to cover Sam's, their fingers intertwining.

Neither of them got any sleep that night, and neither did the dogs, who occasionally got up to pace restlessly. Mary Ellen slept through the night, occasionally whimpering or stirring for a moment. Dean and Sam were quiet, not talking for fear of missing any sign of trouble.

When the alarm went off at 7:30 in the bedroom down the hall, Dean jumped, and then let out a shaky breath. They'd made it.

Sam sucked in a breath as Dean let his out, his lungs burning. He felt like he hadn't breathed all night, and his body had only just started to demand oxygen. Head spinning with relief, Sam twisted on the floor and reached up to pull Dean into a hug, arms going around his shoulders and face pressing into the side of his neck. "We did it," he sighed, feeling himself start to tremble. "I love you, Dean."

Mary Ellen chose that moment to wake up and start crying, and Sam was helpless to do anything but laugh.

Laughing, Dean yanked Sam in for a hard kiss. "God, I love you, too," he said, then practically danced over to the crib to scoop Em up, cuddling her against his chest. "You're safe; we're safe. We did it. We're safe," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the six-month-old's brow. "We're safe," he repeated, smiling at Sam before going to the kitchen to get ready for the day.

After years of turmoil, they were finally, _finally_ safe.


End file.
